Anhelo Amarte
by SaraiCullen
Summary: Forbidden Love. How far would you go to be with the one you love when everything and everyone seems to stand in the way, Romance/Drama/Angst/Suspense
1. Capítulo Uno: Máscaras

**I want to thank the Project Team Beta for betaing my fic, especially Savannah-Vee and Pamela 0201 for your honesty.**

**I also want to thank the awesomeness that is devilsgenie for betaing my story and the one-shot as well. Thanx so much, girlie.**

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**But the story itself is mine. So please respect and don't plagiarize.**

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_Oh Shit! Jacob is going to kill me._

I really thought that I would have had enough time to visit Charlie for his birthday and be back in time to get ready for the masquerade ball tonight.

I woke up really early this morning to make the three hour drive to Forks so I could spend some time with my father. All we ended up doing was sit by the lake and sleep all day, waiting for something to give. Fishing was not something I enjoyed to do but with the recent death of one of Charlie's closest friends, it made me realize how precious time could be. I couldn't complain about how we spent our time today.

Charlie wasn't that old and he was actually very healthy for a man his age. Of course it had to do with my constant pestering. I nagged him to go to his doctor's appointments, to do more activities throughout the day, instead of just driving around Forks in his police cruiser and sitting around by the lake during the weekends.

But nowadays, it really didn't matter how healthy you were. You could catch something deadly, or be involved in a fatal accident at any moment. Granted my father worked for the quaint town of Forks, where nothing ever happened, but after Harry Clearwater died abruptly last summer, I couldn't take my time with Charlie for granted.

Unfortunately, the serenity and peace of the lake, the unusually warm and sunny October day, coaxed my eyelids to slide shut while I sat with my dad. We were supposed to be fishing with the new gear I'd given to him as a present. That was the only thing he'd asked to do for his birthday today: fishing.

The next thing I knew I was flying down the highway, trying to get back into Seattle, desperately hoping that there weren't cops hiding behind any tall hedges, waiting to stop me. I chuckled at the thought that my father would still hand me a ticket if he were the one to catch me speeding.

Unfortunately it didn't seem to make a difference since I was currently trying to put the finishing touches on my hair and make-up as my husband glared at me from our bedroom door. The masquerade ball was supposed to start in about half an hour and I still had my dress and shoes to put on.

It didn't help that I had completely forgotten to pick up a bottle of champagne that Jacob had asked me to get for the new associate and his wife. The new guy was joining the firm all the way from Illinois and, Jacob's request had left my mind during my busy week at work. We still had to stop by the store to get that.

But as much as I was at fault for our tardiness, his huffing and constant glaring was not helping us get there any faster.

"You should have left early, Bella. I don't understand how you could be late when there was nothing else to do there," Jacob nearly shouted at me as I stepped into my dress and strapped heels. He stood at the doorway of our bedroom, his fists clenched at his sides, his pose rigid as if he were trying to get control over his rage.

I sighed in resignation. He needed to get a hold of his temper because his boss, Carlisle, could sniff that attitude out.

Even though he stood there, angry as hell, I couldn't help but notice how good he looked in his tux. Jacob was wearing a Ralph Lauren striped black tuxedo, with a black button-up shirt that embraced his broad shoulders and muscular chest. His gold vest and tie matched the mask that was currently sitting next to mine on top of the dresser. Jacob was very tall and muscular, always making it a point to take good care of his physique. It went with the whole package: successful lawyer, good looks, charisma, and extreme smarts. People tended to gravitate toward him because of this and his seemingly humble nature.

Jacob's temper abated some when he saw me checking him out, his ego swollen from my gawking, and he finally let go of his rigid stance. As I was putting on the last touches to my dress -the precious three-gold diamond studded earrings Jacob had given me on our sixth anniversary, and the diamond necklace my parents presented me with when I graduated from the University of Washington at 23- Jacob stalked slowly towards me, his black eyes made even darker with the want that emanated from him.

He stood behind me, his strong arms hugging my waist as he pulled me against his solid chest. His warmth and scent surrounded me, making me a bit lightheaded. His right hand rose to lift my hair off to one shoulder as he nipped and sucked at a particularly erogenous spot on my neck. I was beginning to feel warm, my skin prickling beneath his lips as he embraced me.

"Jacob," I warned, as his strong hands began to caress my stomach, slowly making their way up. "Jacob, we have to stop if we want to make it to the party on time."

"But I want you," he whispered, his warm breath hitting my moistened neck. My hands, which were in the middle of putting on my second earring, reached for his, encouraging him to continue. But before it could get any further, Jacob huffed behind me, placing his forehead on my shoulder as he worked to control the arousal that was currently being pressed against my backside. His hands stopped their wandering, moving back down to my waist.

"But, you're right. We have to go now because we still have to pick up the bottle of champagne I specifically asked you to get earlier this week." Jacob's belligerence was rearing its ugly head again. It took everything in me to not respond and ignore his comment. As I moved away from him, I stood in front of the full-length mirror on the wall, finally putting the other earring in my left ear. I was finished getting ready and took one last look at myself.

I loved the dress I chose for the masquerade ball. It was a soft blue strapless dress with crystals covering the bust, with an imperial waist and a long chiffon skirt.

I wore my long brown hair down in loose curls, purposely covering the top part of my back that the dress couldn't reach. I would be wearing a mask to the ball so I kept my make-up was subtle. But my lip gloss made my already-pink lips look radiant in the light. My mask was pearlescent with gold and crystal swirls around the edges, and decorative leaves of the same colors adorning its top left. A few strands of gold and silver sequins hung from the left side of the mask.

"You're beautiful," Jacob whispered behind me, startling me. I'd forgotten he was still in the room with me and I nodded my thanks for his compliment. "We have to go, Bella."

Finally, we made it to the Cullen mansion on the outskirts of Seattle. The ride over was a quiet one as Jacob prepared himself for the night ahead. Tonight he was going to meet the man who was his competition for partner at Cullen & Associates.

Carlisle was currently looking for someone to fill in the spot of his previous partner, Aro Volturi. Aro died a couple of years ago of a brain hemorrhage, and his sudden death left not only a huge gap to be filled by someone of his ingenious expertise in law, but also the loss of a very dear, longtime friend for Carlisle.

Carlisle and Aro were college buddies. They met in the same school and even pledged for the same fraternity. Throughout the decades they'd become a force in Seattle, earning and retaining the trust of many clients throughout the metropolitan area. Now Carlisle was looking for someone to fill in for Aro, and as Jacob was the best lawyer Carlisle had under his wing, not having lost any of his cases since his employment with the law firm, my husband was one of the top choices for partner.

But so was another lawyer who worked for Cullen & Associates. The law firm had offices in Illinois and their top associate had shown interest in being partner as well. It was only Monday that we heard of this Chicago lawyer's impending arrival. No one knew his name, his background, or any information whatsoever. No one except for Carlisle, as the mystery man was a longtime friend of the Cullen's.

That was a huge advantage over Jacob's chances and he realized that he would have to work extra hard (and kiss major Cullen ass) in order to get partner. I held his hand on the way to the ball, whispering encouraging words as a good wife should. But deep inside, I didn't know if I truly wanted Jacob to succeed. Not that I didn't want him to, as I believed he could be a tremendous asset to the firm, but that would mean even less time to spend with him. He'd already been spending more time in the office than he'd been at home as it was.

But I had to stop being selfish. I'd always known that Jacob was driven and competitive, and that he would stop at nothing to get what he wanted.

That was how he got me after all.

We placed our masks on in the car, grabbed the champagne bottle that we had picked up on the way and made our way into the mansion. Carlisle and Esme's home always left me breathless, no matter how many times we'd been there. To say it was grand would be putting it mildly. As we entered the foyer, already the sounds of polite conversation and bustling guests added as a background to the light jazzy sounds of saxophone and piano playing for the party. Immediately we were greeted by the butler, Laurent, as he took our coats. My breath caught at the sight of the decorations for the ball. There was glass everywhere, the lights of numerous red, white and black candles in the shape of skulls and bones lit up like ten thousand stars in the slightly darkened room. Black and pearl white balloons covered every inch of the high ceiling and there was a light mist floating over the floor, perfect for Halloween.

Paintings of many sizes and themes hung all along the walls including a rather peculiar one that caught my eye. It was a painting of a delicate young woman standing on the very edge of a cliff, looking down into an ocean full of ghosts, their facial expressions filled with despair and sorrow, waiting for her to take a leap. The woman's face was pale, stupefied as if violently shocked out of reality, her eyes hinting at her sorrow. In the middle of her chest was a gaping hole, blood dripping from the wound where there once was a beating heart. To some it was disturbing and to others, it was depressing. It was one of Esme's favorite paintings. It was one of my favorites, too.

I saw Esme speaking with one of the associates and his wife and as our eyes connected, she excused herself to meet us.

"Oh my goodness, you are a very beautiful couple," Esme greeted, kissing me on each cheek and embracing Jacob's massive form. "Bella, you are exquisite."

"Me? You are stunning, Esme," I replied. And she truly was. Her shiny caramel colored hair was pinned up neatly in a tight bun, not a hair out of place. Her strapless dress was a gentle, shimmery cream color that hugged her curvaceous figure closely, and her chandelier diamond earrings matched her two-inch wide diamond bracelet on her left wrist. Esme's mask was different than everyone else's as you could see through hers to see her gentle face. It seemed to be made entirely of a soft golden wire which held lightly iridescent crystals all throughout.

I saw Carlisle approach us from my left. He wore the classic black tie with his couture tuxedo. His mask looked like a tarnished white gold with a golden sun fixed on top. Carlisle was a very good looking man for his age and the tux just accentuated all of his best features.

"Jacob, you look good, son," Carlisle complimented as he shook hands with my husband. Carlisle turned his sights on me and embraced me in a fatherly manner. "But you've got nothing on your gorgeous wife. Bella, you are a sight." I blushed at his compliment and after a few pleasantries Jacob and I made our way further into the crowd. Left and right we shook hands and made pleasant conversations with the other associates and their wives or girlfriends. From a distance I saw my best friend, Rosalie, standing out in a remarkably gorgeous dress, as she danced with her husband, Emmett. I excused myself to walk toward them.

"You, Dr. Hale-McCarty are outrageously ostentatious and it's absolutely perfect for you. Red is definitely your color," I said when I interrupted them mid-waltz. Rosalie's dress was bright scarlet, and it hugged her bust tightly, pushing her up. At mid-waist, it flared out down to her feet. Her mask was the same red, with gold edges and swirls drawn on, the red string holding it against her face tied behind her long, blonde locks which hung loosely down her back.

Emmett was wearing a classic tuxedo with a scarlet vest and bow tie to match Rosalie. His red and gold mask went well with what he wore, and he looked very handsome.

"Thank you, thank you, Bella. I do try," Rosalie replied, smugly. If I didn't know Rose better, I would think of her as a stuck-up, rich girl from Seattle's high society. But we met back at U-Dub as I studied to be a teacher and she was working on her medical degree, and though at first she struck me as a cold, hard bitch, Rosalie was actually one of the most hard-working people I'd ever known. Her parents had practically stopped being her parents when Rose was just a kid and she had to do a lot of growing up at an early age. She had always shown an interest in medicine and even though her mother and father were always putting her down, telling her that she would only be good enough to either wait on tables or dance on them, she ran away from the only thing she'd ever known as a home and began to wait tables and dance on them anyway, all to support herself through medical school. Everything Rosalie had she'd gotten all on her own. She'd sacrificed blood, sweat and tears, along with her body and even her respect from other people, just to one day become a gynecologist. As a matter of fact, I'm one of her patients.

"Emmett, that mask on your face doesn't hide the fact you keep looking at her chest," I said, as Rosalie giggled along with me. "You're a bit obvious."

"Hey, Bells. I can't help it. They are just there, begging for my attentions," Emmett answered as he took his lovely wife in his arms again. "Besides, with all these wandering eyes, I have to show that these puppies are mine."

Rosalie playfully slapped Emmett on his upper arm as they continued to sway together.

"Speaking of puppies..." Rosalie began to say. "Where's Fido?"

"Ugh, Rosalie. I hate it when you call him that," I responded. Rosalie and Jacob couldn't stand the sight of each other. There were so many times I'd had to separate them, that eventually I got tired of trying to spend time with them both and would just make plans to hang out with each one alone.

Looking around the massive room full of lights and glass, I began to search for my husband. But after a few moments, I still hadn't found him and I excused myself to look for him. I didn't want to worry. I didn't want to make Rosalie worry either because she would make a big deal out of it. I knew Jacob was a good man and would never do anything for me to question his fidelity. But that didn't mean that other women hadn't tried: specifically one woman.

After searching for him, I instinctively looked for Leah, his executive assistant. I don't know why I did, because Jacob really hadn't given me any reason to not trust him, but I looked for her anyway.

Leah was a tall, beautiful woman with slender athletic build and gorgeous russet skin. It made me cringe at the thought of how well they looked together. I had a feeling that she was attracted to Jacob but I knew that she would never break up a happy home.

That fact, though, didn't lessen my worries because, unless he was home, she would always be there. Always at the office before him, always leaving late at night with him, always at his beck and call.

_Or it could mean that she actually takes her job seriously, Bella._

The thought of her made me growl, and I walked a little faster through the crowd, not paying any attention to where I was going.

Suddenly I ran into a tall, lean body, waking me up from my crowded thoughts. A pair of slender hands caught my arms and held me steady before I could embarrass myself by falling on the floor. Looking up I saw brilliant gray-blue eyes staring down at me with both amusement and concern. The tall, blond man asked if I was okay as I took a closer look at him. He was wearing an all-black suit, the edges of his lapels and suit pockets were shiny like silk, his jacket covering his hot pink vest. He didn't wear a tie instead he had a silver and black button enclosing the collar around his long neck. His mask hid only his right eye and it was silver and black.

"Are you okay, ma'am?" he drawled with a Southern accent, his voice low and polite.

"Yeah, I'm sorry," I answered as he waved off my apology. I tried to explain. "I was looking for my husband and I can't find him anywhere...just too focused on the task at hand, I guess. But thank you for stopping me from making a complete fool of myself."

He chuckled lowly, "Then I guess you best pay attention, ma'am. I don't mind catching you but my fiancée might think ill of me if I keep following a beautiful woman such as yourself around just making sure she won't fall again."

I blushed in embarrassment and said, "I'll be more careful. Thank you."

As I walked away from the Southern gentlemen, I saw that he was joined by a short pixie of a woman who was wearing a hot pink strapless dress that came down to just above her knees, a big black bow encircling her tiny waist. Her face was hidden behind a black mask with a huge pink rose on its right, her short spiky black hair standing at wild attention. They both matched each other well in their black and hot pink ensembles. She eyed me curiously as she spoke to the gentleman, whom I guess was her fiancé, and even from this distance as she hid behind the mask, she looked familiar to me. It was nagging at me for a bit until I remembered I was still looking for Jake and Leah.

Finally I saw her speaking with another woman in deep conversation. Leah was wearing a long, dark silver gown that draped down to the floor and I grudgingly recognized how gorgeous she looked tonight. Her short black hair was worn naturally straight, parted on the side in a sleek bob, and it hid the band of the silver mask she wore, which was covered in some parts by black lace. Crazy enough I checked for signs -ruffled hair or disheveled dress- that she'd been up to something but as always, she was calm and collected while she spoke with her co-worker and I inwardly berated myself for being unfoundedly jealous of her.

The loud bark of my husband came from the complete opposite side of the room, and he seemed to be rubbing elbows with Carlisle and some of the other associates. I needed to rein in my lunacy before I made my way to Jacob. I walked up the staircase towards the nearest washroom.

Standing in front of the mirror as I tried to collect my thoughts, I heard the distant sound of a single piano that contrasted with the music playing downstairs. Turning off the lights in the bathroom and walking out, I tried to follow the sound and realized that it was coming from the third floor. I stood against the wall in silence, closing my eyes and enjoying the haunting melody playing from upstairs. It carried me back to a past which I thought of no more in recent days, a time which was bittersweet. The ghost of a pain I hadn't felt in years lightly squeezed my heart and I willed the memories to go away. I just wanted to enjoy the nostalgic music. The piano played sadly, a tune that nearly broke my heart. I became curious as to who would be playing this wistful song, and I slowly began to make my way upstairs. Not getting any farther than two steps on the staircase, I heard footsteps behind me, alerting me to the presence of another.

"Bella, dear. What are you doing here?" asked Esme, and even though I really hadn't done anything to invite suspicion, I felt guilty for intruding in her home.

"I'm sorry, Esme. I thought I heard..." I began, but noticed the music had suddenly stopped. Or was it just my imagination working overtime tonight? First I was suspecting my husband of having a possible affair and now I was hearing things. Maybe I needed to seek some help.

Esme walked closer to me, her eyes cautiously darting from me to the third floor and I feared she might think I was losing my mind. She took my right hand in her soft one and gently began leading me back downstairs as if purposely avoiding the third floor. It would be rude for me to ask about it anyway as it wasn't my place.

"Sweetheart, Jacob has been asking for you for the last fifteen minutes. He thought something had happened to you," Esme said as we finally made it downstairs. The crowd seemed to have increased in number just slightly but all of the commotion was coming from the same corner where Jacob and Carlisle stood. Rosalie and Emmett were there as well, and I noticed Leah standing in the background behind Jacob as he was throwing his head back in laughter, probably at some mundane, humorless joke.

Esme kept holding my hand as we walked through the crowd, finally approaching Jacob from behind. She quickly let go and she stood by her husband instantly.

"There you are," Jacob exclaimed, a bit too enthusiastically, causing my face to blush and I was grateful for the mask. He bent down and lowly whispered into my ear, his tone a bit exasperated. "Where have you been? I've been looking all over for you."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at his false statement. If he were truly looking for me, we would've found each other a long time ago. He'd been standing in the same spot for at least the last twenty minutes and I was becoming angry at his attempt to make me feel as if I had been hiding from him.

Reining in my temper, I asked what I'd missed instead of answering his absurd question. Jacob was currently waiting to meet the mystery man from Illinois contending with him for partner. Just then an elegant woman with long, strawberry blonde hair joined the group crowding around us. Her satin black dress covered her curves like second skin as her small waist was emphasized by a round of crystals encircling her bust. Her black mask covered more her right side than her left but her icy blue eyes stood out the strongest against the dark color. She looked a bit familiar. Rosalie, who had been standing right next to me, holding a glass of champagne in her hand, prompted me to look down at the woman's black strapped high-heeled sandals.

I barely recognized Carlisle speaking to the crowd, possibly introducing the new associate joining the Seattle firm.

"Jimmy Choo's," Rosalie whispered, as she stared at them like a man left in a desert, having found water for the first time in ages. I shook my head at my best friend, not really understanding the big deal about Jimmy Choo shoes- with the exception of their outrageous prices.

As I concentrated on Strawberry's shoes, admiring their sleekness, another pair of shoes, men's leather shoes came into view. Before I could look up to see who was standing in the way, I heard the one voice I'd remember anywhere with perfect clarity. The one voice I thought I would never hear again.

"Hi. I'm actually very excited to join your offices here in Seattle." My heart started to race at an unprecedented speed, my lungs fighting for the air that seemed to be surrounding everyone but me. "As Carlisle said, my name is Edward Masen..." and it took all my will power to stop myself from fainting in front of everyone... "And this is my lovely wife, Tanya Masen." I felt my body trembling with the different emotions that overtook me as I saw _him_ standing there with her. I felt my eyes prickle with the threat of tears and I quickly leaned on Rosalie for support. Immediately she noticed my nerves and all I could say was, "Champagne", hoping that it would calm my frantic emotions. Rosalie gave me her half-empty glass and I gulped it all down in one swift motion.

"Bella, are you okay?" asked Rosalie, catching the attention of Emmett as well. They both looked at me with concerned faces and I inhaled deeply, slowly letting the air out of my lungs to control my anxiety. I was grateful that all the attention was being paid to the attractive couple across from me. I needed a moment to collect myself and I desperately looked around the room in search of an exit and finding none close enough to run out of.

Quickly, I let Rosalie know that I was all right for the moment. I ignored her disbelieving expression as I turned back to look at him currently standing next to the perfect strawberry blonde with a conceited sneer.

I wanted to cry because _he _was still just as beautiful as he had ever been. His face had definitely grown out of the roundness of his adolescence, his jaw and cheekbones sharper now and clean shaven. His tall body, though it was still slender, had grown into its fullness and I could easily see his fit form underneath his tuxedo jacket. He wore black entirely, only the satin of his tie, vest and buttons stood out on his tuxedo. His copper brown hair was a sensual mess and I wondered if he and his wife had just been... I couldn't continue on with that thought as my heart already ached from his reappearance in my life. He wore a black mask and his striking emerald green eyes stood out like the most beautiful of stones.

Jacob had not noticed the panic that was currently holding me hostage, and I was still struggling to calm my breathing. I didn't want to embarrass my husband as he checked out the competition.

Rosalie was still staring at me, tugging at my elbow. But he began walking around and shaking hands with the other lawyers and invited community leaders. I mentally prepared myself for the inevitable, knowing that we would meet soon...

Would he recognize me?

Would he remember me?

Would he acknowledge me?

It seemed like I had a hundred questions plaguing my mind at that very moment and it was too soon that I would find out the answers.

"Come on," Jacob whispered in my ear, still oblivious to my internal turmoil as he took my right arm and weaved it around his left. When we arrived in front of the new addition to the firm and his wife, I cowardly hid behind Jake's body, blocking them from my view. Jacob extended his hand toward Edward and shook his firmly.

"Hello, my name is Jacob William Black..." he said as he shuffled me over to the front of him, grasping my shoulders firmly, but gently." ...And this is my beautiful wife, Isabella Marie."

Emerald eyes immediately widened and searched for my face at the disclosure of my name. Instantly his eyes locked with my brown ones and held me frozen in place. I stiffly lifted my hand to shake his, hoping it was fast enough to hide its trembling.

"How do you do? It's very nice to finally meet you," I whispered, trying to conceal the slight tremor in my voice.

His hand grasped mine soundly and in that very second, an energy so strong, so palpable, connected us with such solidity, it almost felt like an extra pair of hands were enclosing on our grip, magnetically holding us, forbidding separation.

A force I hadn't felt in years.

Memories struck me breathless for the second time this evening, this time accelerating the rate of my heart to the point in which I unintentionally gripped tighter on his strong hand, in order to hold myself up.

Our first time meeting in Biology class back in Forks High...

The first time that I had ever confided in anyone...

The first time we kissed...

The first "I love you"...

The first time we revealed ourselves to one another...

Our first time... the first of many...

My first... everything...

Including heartbreak.

Edward's gaze was piercing, smoldering, but it was slowly locking up into a stoic, emotionless expression and it took everything in me to not lose it at his coldness.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." His tone was cold, detached. Edward abruptly let go of my hand which was suddenly missing his warmth. I noticed that his rich, velvet voice was now deeper, matured with time. But still it was as apathetic as the impassive expression on his face. "I would like you to meet my wife, Tanya," he continued, making sure to emphasize her relation to him.

Edward reached behind him and brought forth the woman who was currently sneering at me. Her stance was superior and pompous as she surveyed my form from head to toe as if I were the scum of the earth.

They complimented each other. They were both beautiful, both absolute assholes.

Honestly they seemed to deserve each other.

Instantly I held my head up high and with as much effort as I could claim, I smiled at the two as warmly as possible, hoping to show that I was not affected by him at all.

After a few moments of monotonous, empty chatter between the Blacks, the McCartys, the Cullens and the Masens, I made a show of placing my hand inside Jacob's jacket, caressing his solid chest, tracing my fingers along the sinuous curves of his flesh, letting him know that I was more than ready to go home. My other hand slowly stroked its way towards the back of his neck, lightly tugging at his hair, and massaging him right where I knew would make him weakest to my touch.

Throughout the rest of the evening, while all of the associates shared law school stories, Edward had not acknowledged my presence, as I unwillingly looked over at him a couple of times.

But now I could feel his glare from across the way, penetrating deep into me as Jacob quickly succumbed to my touch. Quietly, Jacob lowered his lips to my neck for the second time tonight, nipping and sucking at the skin there. I glanced over to find green eyes piercing into me, confirming my suspicions.

"I take it you want to go home," Jacob whispered lowly, his hot breath warming my skin. I nodded and we both said our farewell for the evening.

I made sure not to catch his eye again and completely ignored him. But I knew that from now on, it would not be that easy.

Tonight I was going to take advantage of my husband, let him have his way with me in any way possible in the hopes to fuck Edward Masen out of my mind, once and for all.

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It was hot and sticky, the heat in our room almost choking us, making our mouths run dry but we couldn't stop. Not now. The only sounds taking over the otherwise silent room were our moist, sweaty skin slapping against the other, the headboard of our bed banging against the wall, and the pleading of our moans and whispers, aching to come powerfully.

I pounded relentlessly into her as my impending climax quickly approached. Her smooth, slender legs were wrapped around my neck by the ankles as I lifted her by the hips, high enough to hit that sweet spot I'd so wished she'd finally get off on. I wordlessly tried to direct her to open her eyes for me, but she had been enjoying the sensations of her approaching orgasm so much, her eyes were closed to me and all I could see were the chocolate brown that had come back to ruin me.

The more I fought against the memory of _her_, standing in front of me in all her immaculate beauty, and failed, the quicker my building orgasm neared its end. With a few more thrusts, I finally came the most powerful I had ever done during my relationship with Tanya, and I felt suddenly guilty that it took the memory of one sweet girl turned into an infuriatingly exquisite temptress to make me climax so vigorously. I didn't even have the chance to know if Tanya had reached hers at all.

It didn't take more than a few minutes for Tanya to fall soundly asleep on the other side of the king, so distant from me. I lied down on the soft white sheets with both of my arms resting underneath my head, looking up at the ceiling. I thought back on tonight's events: I played the piano in the attic on the third floor of the Cullen mansion -a melody that was bittersweet but oddly comforting. A song that took me years to compose between classes and any extracurricular activities I purposely became involved with in order to avoid any other thoughts of her.

And then to run into _her _out of all people, her stunning beauty had nearly made my knees buckle at the sight of her. I had to build up my walls faster than ever in hopes of avoiding total humiliation at her feet.

I couldn't let her affect me like this when I hadn't thought of her in so long. How was it that my heart pounded so powerfully in my chest at the sight of her when I'd trained it for years to forget her? But after tonight, she would be no more a part of my thoughts. If I had to make myself hate her, I would do just that.

I had to get Isabella Swan...Black out of my mind.

* * *

_**Again  
**__Janet Jackson_

_Suddenly the memories came back to me in my mind._

_How can I be strong? I've asked myself time and time._

_I've said that I'll never fall in love with you again._

_A wounded heart you gave my soul you took away._

_Good intentions you had many I know you did._

_I come from a place that hurts and God knows how I've cried._

_And I never want to return, never fall again._

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**Please review. I won't know if I'm doing well or not if you don't let me know.**

**If you'd like to see the dresses, tuxedos and masks for the first chapter, check out my blog and tell me which one is your favorite (Personally, Esme's dress and mask is my favorite): **

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**Thanx for reading.**


	2. Capítulo Dos: Coincicendia

_**All Twilight characters belong to Stephenie Meyers.**_

_**This story is rated "M/NC-17" for a reason kiddies and this chapter begins to earn its rating.**_

_**I want to thank Project Team Beta for their help with this chapter. Especially Belle of the Boulevard and MojoPen. Truly, I really appreciate it.**_

_**Also, I want to thank Devilsgenie for being an awesome beta as well.**_

* * *

When we left the Cullen's home after the masquerade ball this evening, I had been highly aroused and anxious to get home and make love to Jacob. I was rubbing my legs together the entire way home, trying to release some of the tension as I sucked and nibbled on his neck, my hand groping him through his tuxedo pants. He kept pushing my hand away from his erection, claiming that he wasn't going to make it if I kept it up. And I knew this. I knew better than to push his buttons that way because it didn't matter how sexy he was, Jacob seemed to lack control when it came to holding in his climax. I knew better than this but I wanted to keep going. Still I cooled my groping for the moment and I tried hard to control my need.

Finally making it to our house and closing the door behind us, we began to peel off our clothes quickly on the way to our bedroom. When we made it there, Jacob stood before me, wearing his gray silk boxers and his black socks, the look of lust in his eyes unmistakable. I stood in my white lace panties, matching garter belt and silk stockings. Hurriedly, I pulled down his boxers and motioned for him to sit on the bed. I slowly removed one of his socks, followed by the other and I knelt in front of him, licking my lips in anticipation. His breathing was short and ragged as I dragged my hands up his toned thighs, making sure to tease him by touching him all over except for where he needed me the most. I kissed his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin against my lips and made my way down. His eyes were full of want and he swallowed harshly as the tip of my tongue flicked his dripping slit, making it twitch at the sensation. After torturing him enough, I wrapped my mouth around his shaft, moving up and down at a slow, sensual pace, taking most of his length in.

With all of the teasing and caressing from the ride home, it didn't take him long to release in my mouth and though the taste of it was a bit gross, I took it all in and moaned loudly, making him believe that I was truly enjoying this. I knew better than to tease him like that, but it was all part of the plan. I'd read somewhere on the internet that when it comes to men who ejaculate rather quickly, their partner should help him achieve his first climax, in the hopes that in the second try, he won't come as quickly.

My plan was to do just that. Even though the last few times were failed attempts -he would be either too tired to try or Jake Jr. didn't want to cooperate- I held on to the hope that tonight could be the beginning of something we haven't had in a long time: a healthy sexual relationship. Between his career, his desire to become partner, my job and my "hobby", we never seem to have any time together. Every day we got home, we would eat dinner, watch the news and would get ready for bed... to sleep. That was our life- with the exception of the occasional business trip, visit down to Forks and my -what Jake loves to call- extracurricular activities, this was our routine.

But tonight was going to be different. It needed to be because all throughout the night, my mind kept drifting off to the image of _him_ standing indifferent, yet so beautiful and enticing. I needed to get _him_ out of my system for good.

I finished and cleaned him up, Jacob moved up the bed and laid down against the pillows. I kissed him at the knees, enjoying the feel of his strong legs against my lips, his dick lying flaccid atop his lower abdomen. I began to stroke him but Jacob pulled me up instead so that I could face him. His hands roamed my body almost robotically, avoiding, as always, touching the right side of my abdomen and my right thigh. But I didn't concentrate too much on that thought and helped guide his warm hands to my breasts. His hands felt good on my skin and I couldn't help but moan when he gripped them tighter, massaging them more fluidly. I moaned at the warmth of his hands and I lavished kisses on his chest, working my way up to his neck, nibbling and sucking just where I knew he liked it. I straddled him, placing my soaked pussy right over his dick as I rubbed myself against him, hoping that the feel of my wetness on him and the motion of my hips against his would coax his erection back to life. Eventually, I felt him harden underneath me and I felt myself hope that this time it would work.

Just as I was about to lower myself onto him, he abruptly laid me down on my back, placing himself between my legs. His hips moved against my wetness as he began to nip and suck at my neck chastely. He immediately moved away from me, placing both of his hands on the bed, holding himself up. Closing his eyes, he entered me quickly and with a look of determination in his face, he began thrusting into me.

"Jake," I whispered, trying to get his attention. He didn't open his eyes and I was beginning to get frustrated. I didn't want him to finish again without me. I called his name again and when he finally pried his eyelids open, there was a look of slight annoyance in his eyes, though he hid it right away. As if I was interrupting _him_ from getting off when he knew I needed to come just as much as he did. He slowed his pace and automatically began sucking on my neck, almost as if he were forcing himself to. After a few minutes of nipping at my neck -which I was sure would leave a major hickey as his lips didn't move from the same spot the entire time- he lifted himself up again and began to thrust into me carelessly. The culmination of my climax was drawing near but I started to get the feeling that this was going to be just like all the other times in which I was left wanting. He pushed into me one, two, three more times before he grunted loudly and released in me. I was still grasping for an orgasm when he slid out of me and threw himself on the bed.

My eyes stung with the tears that threatened to spill over. This was what had become _routine_ in our marriage. Everything else was fine. He was respectful, sweet, had a good sense of humor and a big heart. Ever since I met him about eight years ago, he'd always been protective, loving and very giving. He had picked up the pieces of a broken woman and patiently put her together. His love and loyalty to me had always impressed me and I was grateful for everything he had done for me.

But somewhere in those eight years, the passion had died out. Not that he had been an amazing lover... he was more attentive, more caring, and warmer. He would hold me during and after sex and we'd be right back at it as soon as our bodies built enough energy for another round.

Tonight, just like many other nights, he didn't hold me, every touch and caress seemed forced, and when it came time to climax, I had been left hanging on by a thread.

It was moments like these that made me wonder if he had another woman in his life, someone whom he _wanted_ to embrace and explore and take their relationship to new sexual heights. We were married, for goodness sake! That's what I was here for and the thought of him looking for something new and exciting somewhere else when it was being freely and willingly given to him at home was heartbreaking.

It was things like these that made me feel inadequate. As if I wasn't attractive to him anymore because he didn't want to spend time with me or touch me. Tonight, every touch was habitual. I could almost tell where he would place his hand next because he did it every time. Was I somehow losing it? Even though I was only 28 years old, I constantly checked myself in the mirror, looking for any reasons that he might find me uninteresting. Was he so bored with me that I repulsed him?

I'm surprised he hadn't resorted to "Doggy-Style" tonight like he usually does. It was his signature move in bed and even though I didn't necessarily dislike the position, it was the routine that made it less exciting, less arousing.

I've talked to him about the way I feel when we make love. How the chaste kisses and closed eyes and cold touches left me wanting. It was one of the hardest things I had ever had to tell anyone -to tell my husband that he wasn't keeping me satisfied in bed as he should. When I did, it shook his confidence and he slowly began to retreat from me. It was a slap in my face as well because it seemed like he didn't care that he wasn't providing me with what I needed from him, that he didn't care if I was left wanting more of him.

I was blinking back the tears that threatened to brim over and was grateful that the room was dark so he wouldn't see how this was affecting me. His breath had calmed down some and he turned to face me.

"Did you climax?" he asked with a hint of hope in his voice.

I should have told of him that, once again, I didn't get mine and that he should do something to take me out of my frustration. But right now, I was so disappointed with him; I would feel disgusted if he even attempted to do something for me. Even though I was still feeling very aroused, my body locked up and decided it didn't want anything that Jacob could offer. I just wanted to be left alone, and by the look of exhaustion in his face, I knew I was going to get this one wish at least.

"Yes," I lied. With a satisfied, lazy grin on his face, Jacob lifted himself off the bed and slid in between the covers, quickly falling asleep. It didn't take more than a minute for his snores to sound loudly and I made my way towards the bathroom, turning on the shower, making sure it was cold.

It hadn't helped one bit. After years of disappointment, my body needed to release the tension that had been building inside of me instead of it being buried down by a cold shower. Finishing up in the bathroom, I brushed my teeth and entered my bedroom. Jacob was still snoring up a storm from his side of the bed. I quickly pulled on some sweats and a tank top and made my way downstairs. I began to collect the clothes that we had thrown on the floor on our way to the bedroom and once again, I felt my tears sting my eyes, this time letting them fall freely. I hated that this was happening to me. In the eyes of everyone else, we were the perfect couple, and if there was no need for a sexual relationship in our marriage, we might've been. But that was not the case. As I draped his tuxedo on my arm, I bent to pick up my beautiful dress. As if it carried some magic to bring me back to the past, memories of Edward hit me with a strong force.

There he was this evening as he stood aloof in front of me, his posture as rigid as a board when he introduced his frustratingly beautiful wife to me. They were a vision of perfection and I wondered if their fairy tale story was in any way similar to mine and Jacob. Did they get home and have sex? Did only one of them end up satiated while the other sat on the other side of the bed, wondering what had happened to their sex life?

A pain that I hadn't felt in years suddenly shook me as I thought back to my relationship with Edward.

We were high school sweethearts for half of our junior year and all of our senior year. We were so close and in love with each other that it scared the hell out of me for reasons I didn't know then. Before him, life was just...life. There were moments of happiness and joy as well as times that were of a more serious nature like my parent's divorce. Then Edward came into my life. Everything became brilliant, had vitality and I fell harder and harder for it every day we were together. The day we went our separate ways, my entire being had shut down. I began to live a half-life full of sorrow and pain at being separated from him. After that my days were black and cold and it would be a painfully long time until there would be some sort of life in me again.

We were both smart kids. We had promising futures ahead of us and even though I hated any attention we got at Forks High, we were voted, "Favorite Couple" our senior year. I remember the look on Jessica Stanley's face when she and Mike Newton were outvoted and I secretly gave a happy dance. Edward enjoyed seeing my happy dance.

Edward and I were very physical in our relationship. Even though he wasn't a virgin like me, he was still pretty inexperienced and our first time had been a bit uncomfortable, to say the least. But he took care of me the entire time. And the more we made love, the better it became until he knew every spot on my body that made me soar. I learned of the different places -other than the obvious ones- that made him tremble with need. I'd even let him in on a secret of mine: to act out a love scene from one of my favorite movies of all time- Pretty Woman. Of course I was as red as a tomato when I'd confessed this to him, but he seemed more than willing to comply. I chuckled at the memory of that, thinking it was so silly of me to have confessed that.

Unfortunately, time had run out. That, along with other plans we'd made for us, had drifted away into the air along with our relationship.

Looking down at my dress, I went back to remembering tonight's events and closed my eyes. I allowed myself to live in a different world in which there would be no animosity between us.

We would still shake hands as we did this evening, the electricity would still be present and I'd still feel it running through my entire body. We would introduce our spouses to each other. On second thought, I erased the visions of Jacob and Tanya, and just left Edward and I to reminisce about the old days, making plans to catch up some more. But immediately, I shook myself out of my stupor. I would be going straight to hell if I didn't pull myself away from those errant thoughts.

Still, I wondered what the reappearance of Edward in my life would mean now. Would he still ignore me or act indifferent around me? Would he loosen up after enough time passed by, allowing us to at least be acquaintances? Would I ever find out why he was so cold to me? Why he didn't acknowledge me?

I shook my head at all of these questions. I didn't want to think about Edward or our past anymore. Throughout the years I've been pushing all thoughts of him away, and if ever his memory would sneak up to surprise me, I'd throw myself deeper into school, work, or my hobby. Even though it would mean nothing in the end, these thoughts would only serve to compare my past with my present. I felt guilty for thinking that with Edward, things were better. Of course, those good ole days were simpler and happier. Once I became an adult, I learned that the real world was not such a happy place and so it made sense to think that everything with Edward would seem better.

But that is why I needed for Jacob to give me more of him- especially tonight. I'd wanted him to take me in bed and have his wicked way with me, help me by fucking Edward's face out of my mind. And once again, he failed me. I didn't want to lose faith. Outside of the sex, we were a good couple; we complimented each other very well. And I know sex does not define our relationship, but it was extremely important and it was pushing us apart.

I opened my eyes and noticed that I had somehow made my way to the couch. I'd fallen asleep with thoughts of _him_ and woke up an hour later with an uncomfortable pain in my neck from laying my head awkwardly against the armrest. I took myself up to our bedroom, hastily throwing our clothes into a corner for me to take care of tomorrow morning, and plopped myself in bed. I was so tired, I fell asleep immediately. I was grateful that I was a heavy sleeper by nature- Jacob's snores wouldn't disturb my slumber tonight.

* * *

The month of November was one of my favorites mainly because of the anticipation of Thanksgiving Day. Jacob and I lived in a huge two-story house that seemed a bit too much at times because we were on our own. We really didn't need five bedrooms and three bathrooms. But in moments like these, when we knew we'd have family over for Thanksgiving dinner, it was good to know that we could accommodate them here, instead of sending them away to a nearby hotel. I always took care of dinner. I looked forward every year to opening up my home to guests and feeding them hearty meals. Another benefit of having a big home was everyone could just make their way upstairs to rest instead of risking their lives by falling asleep at the wheel due to a tryptophan overdose. Even though it was a myth that the chemical in turkey induces sleep, somehow everyone finds themselves in lethargy after dinner.

Thanksgiving was only a week and a half away and I wanted to get started on the shopping, searching for the best deals I could find. Jacob and I made pretty good money, but it didn't mean that we needed to be careless about how we spent it. My plans for today were to go to my favorite bakery/sandwich shop after school and order three turkey sandwich platters for my third grade class for our day-before-Thanksgiving party. Afterward, I would head over to the supermarket and shop for the things on the shopping list I'd made last night.

My father was coming over this year for the holiday, which I was really excited about because he usually had to work on that day. After a lot of groveling on my part, he grudgingly relented and I knew it was pretty big of him to do so since he hated to leave Forks "unattended". As if he could take care of the small town all on his own. He had switched his Christmas, which he previously had off, with one of the guys who worked for him in order to come to Seattle.

Among those joining us this year were my best friends Carmen and Rosalie, Rosalie's husband, Emmett and his ten-year old son, Garrett. Depending on how you saw it -fortunately or unfortunately- the Clearwaters would be joining us as well. The Clearwaters as well as Jacob weren't truly into celebrating Thanksgiving, but to be polite and hospitable, we invited them all this year. Jacob considered the Clearwaters family, and after Harry's death, he felt as if Sue, Leah, and Seth should join us this time. At least Sue would be catching a ride over with Charlie, which was a relief to know that my father wasn't going to travel for three hours all on his own.

Regardless of how I felt about Leah, I was truly looking forward to hang out with Seth. He was the life of the party, always brightening up our day with his infectious, booming laughter and good attitude. He was currently attending Washington State University and we were constantly bickering about whose football team was better: his Cougars or our UW Huskies. But it was all in good fun. Other than that, Seth was one of the warmest people I've ever had the pleasure to meet. When his father died, even though his sorrow was evident, he took on the responsibility of being the man of the house so he could take care of Sue in his father's absence.

Other than my plans to shop for food today, I would be packing a small duffel bag for my weekly trip to Forks to spend time with Charlie again. I've been spending every Saturday with my dad for the past four months and this day would be no different. Two weeks ago, we spent the day by the lake, "fishing" for his birthday. But my usual routine would consist of shopping at the Thriftway, cooking his meals for the week, stashing them in the freezer, labeling them for a certain day and making dinner for us that night. As much as he loved seeing me over at his house every week, he hated that I did those things for him as if I were his mother. But I liked taking care of him. He'd taken care of me when I moved in after Renée remarried and besides, what else was he going to eat? Take-out pizza during the week and fish fry on the weekends?

Otherwise, he'd go to the Lodge and that was money he could be saving. Plus, having a good home-cooked meal never hurt anyone. Charlie would usually get home by the time I finished preparing all of his meals and like clockwork, he'd grumble about it all, only to have a look of pure contentment as he took in the first bite. I wondered if he ever noticed me watching the slight grin on his face, but it was enough for me to know he did appreciate my care for him. After that, he'd make himself comfortable on the couch to catch a game as I read a book or worked on my lesson plans for the week. At the end of our evening together, I'd say "goodnight" before going to my small rental, hidden safely in the forest away from anyone's view.

A few years ago, I had learned about a one bedroom, one bathroom cottage that was put up for rental by one of the deputies that worked under Charlie. At the time, I really didn't want to stay at home in fear that my old room would trigger memories of Edward and our past. So the moment Charlie mentioned it, I jumped at the chance. It was my sanctuary for times when I just wanted to get away, as well as a secure place to keep some of my personal work.

Last week, after I'd seen Edward at the ball, I had a lot of built-up tension to work out and I anxiously waited for the day that I could go to my cottage and let loose. For tomorrow, my plan was to relax and I was looking forward to going back to Forks.

Even though Seattle was the coffee capital of the world, with a Starbucks at almost every corner of the city, I found myself in a small and humble bakery with glass cases full of sandwiches, cakes, deserts and other sweets. Their chocolate Nutella Latte was to die for and I wasn't even a big coffee fan myself.

Entering _The Little Bakery That Could, _I was hit with the delicious smells of tiramisus, flans, recently baked breads, and coffee assaulting my senses. My mouth watered at the sight of all the different pastries and muffins of every kind. I used to try a new thing every week, but after I gained five pounds, I changed my weekly indulgences into monthly ones.

I spotted Bree at the counter, taking the order of some of the usual patrons as Eleazar stood in the back, putting boxes of muffins and donuts together for the paying customers. The shop was buzzing with regulars, as it usually was, and all of a sudden I started feeling very antsy. Maybe it was the torturously long line ahead of me or the amount of people inside or the two boys that were running around in the lobby while their parent was oblivious to their sons' disruption. Whatever it was, I felt myself tapping my foot in agitation. The sudden burst of energy was making me anxious and I debated whether or not to leave my order for another day.

Finally making it to the front of the line, I composed myself for Bree, a 17- year old high school student who worked part-time here on the weekends.

"Hey, Bree," I greeted when she genuinely smiled at me. "I need to place an order for three turkey sandwich platters for the twenty fifth."

"Sure, no problem," she responded politely and bent down behind the counter to get an order form to fill out. I stood for a few moments as she asked me for my phone number and pick-up time for that day. "Is there anything else you want, Bella?"

I heard a low gasp behind me, but before I could turn around and look, Bree continued to speak. "Your usual Cuban pastries, perhaps?"

I debated on whether or not I should give in to temptation. Those Cuban pastries were some of my absolute favorites, but I really needed to watch myself, especially since the holidays were coming up.

"I don't know, Bree. You know I've gained five pounds eating this stuff and I really need to stay away from the sweets."

Bree walked towards the case containing the goodies and brought me an empanada, holding it in front of her as if it were made of the finest silk. "But it's calling your name, Bella. It's saying, 'Take Me! You know you want me. Take me Bella, please?'" Bree said, in a sing-song voice.

"Oh, you are an evil, evil girl, Bree. You're killing me. Ugh!," I pondered for a bit, slowly giving in, but I couldn't take long because the customers behind me seemed to be losing their patience. "Oh, okay. I'll take three empanadas, two guava pastries and a Nutella Latte."

Bree finished ringing up the order and prepared my Latte as Eleazar boxed up my pastries. I paid for my things and received a wink and a smile along with my pastry box from Eleazar. My blush was immediately evident on my face at the attention of such a hot guy. Picking up my box and Latte, I had been so distracted by Eleazar's gesture that I turned around, not looking in front of me and ran into a strong, tall body. The Latte in my left hand was squished between our bodies, spilling half its contents on our clothes, the heat of the liquid soaking through the front of my coat. I was grateful for the barrier of my jacket because the hot liquid didn't reach my skin, but I still felt absolutely terrible for my clumsiness and turned to grab the stack of napkins Bree was handing over to me.

"Thanks, Bree," I mumbled hurriedly and began patting the man's chest down with the napkins, as if the stain would be lifted at such a simple gesture. He wore a gray pinstriped business suit that hugged his body in all the right places. The white button-up shirt and the front of his pants were the victims of my clumsiness, and I couldn't help but apologize over and over again for it. "I'm so sorry, sir. I didn't know you were standing so close to me."

Being that I was so close to him, I involuntarily took in the exquisite scent of his cologne mixed with something else that wasn't the coffee -perhaps just him- and I worked to hold my eyes from rolling back as it made my head swim. He was slender, but I thought I felt a very well-defined abdomen underneath his suit jacket as I continued futilely to wipe off the coffee. "Aw, shit. You're suit must be really expensive. I'm so sorry, sir." In the moments that I'd been wiping the napkins over his shirt, he didn't move or speak; his posture tense and rigid.

I looked up to him as I kept apologizing, when a striking pair of angry, emerald eyes glared directly into me, making me gasp at the intensity and the familiarity.

Edward.

He was beyond furious, looking at me as if I had drowned his puppy in a pool of acid. I barely noticed the people around us in that moment, barely noticed Bree bringing the yellow "WET FLOOR" sign and cleaning up the mess with a mop. All I noticed was that he was standing there like a lion ready to pounce on a lamb, his fists clenched at his sides and like an idiot, I was still dabbing the already-ruined napkins against his abdomen.

For some reason, all of the emotions that I had to keep in check throughout the years, over a decade of buried pain that I had trained myself to ignore, resurfaced in that moment. A sob escaped my lips, followed by hot tears rolling down my cheeks.

"I'm so sorry. So, so, sorry," I cried repeatedly as he stood before me enraged. His only response was, "Ruined...Armani...Suit...Dead," through gritted teeth.

I shook my head and looked to Bree, who was mopping up the mess I'd made. Eleazar approached us with a look of concern as he took in my face. He grabbed my empty cup and handed me another Latte, whispering to me that it was free of charge. Backing away and feeling guilty over causing such a mess, I tried reaching for the mop that Bree was using. "Bella, it's okay. I've got it," said the sweet girl, trying to help me calm my emotions. "Are you okay?" she asked. I turned to see that Edward was trying to dry himself off now and had continued placing his order with Benjamin, another employee.

I nodded, wanting to get the hell out of there. I thanked them both for helping me and apologized for my clumsiness. I almost slipped on my way out, my heels still wet from the coffee. I began walking fast from the bakery, almost at a running pace, trying to get as far away from him as possible. Why was this happening to me? Why was he back in my life? I couldn't for the life of me get rid of the image of him standing over me; a look of disdain that I had never seen in him before. It was enough for the tears to cloud my sight as I walked towards the end of the block. Stupidly, without thinking or looking both ways, just in a hurry to get away, I began to cross the street.

Suddenly the blaring horn of a yellow taxi knocked me out of my thoughts. But I couldn't move; I stood there in shock, not able to unlock my limbs in order to run.

It all seemed to happen at the same time. I looked at the wide-eyed driver, screaming through his windshield, waving at me to move out of the way. My heart was pounding fiercely and I closed my eyes, waiting for impact. A pair of strong arms pulled me back by the shoulders. I was so startled by the sudden movement, I instinctively opened my eyes and began to lose my balance, falling sideways. My arms were waving frantically, searching for something to hold onto. I grabbed the shoulders of whomever it was that pulled me away from the cab's path, bringing them down with me. I closed my eyes instantly and waited for the inevitable. He swiftly placed one hand beneath me, protecting my back as his other held my head firmly, holding me against him, bracing me for impact. Thankfully, we landed on top of the hood of a car but both the blow from that and the weight of him on top of me, knocked the air out of my lungs. I desperately gasped for air.

His breathing was harsh as he grunted against the skin of my neck. It sounded as if he'd run for quite a distance before catching up to pull me away from the taxi's path. Immediately, I recognized that grunt and prayed that it was not the person I thought it was. I drew in the courage to open my eyes and see who it was.

Copper hair. Pale skin. Emerald eyes. Filled with concern and relief?

His right arm was still underneath me and his left hand held my head protectively. I lay along the length of the hood of a parked car, his body on top of me, preventing me from sliding off. Every line of his body was pressed tightly against mine and the fact that his pelvis was currently pinned right between my legs didn't escape me.

As I licked my lips, my breathing began to calm down right along with his. His eyes kept searching my face for any sign of pain and I let myself drown in the magic of his eyes. For a moment, so did he and I felt something rather large grow hard between us.

"Are you okay, Bella?" he asked, his voice sweet and full of concern. The sound of my name coming from his mouth was doing things to my body and I worked hard to control my need to rub myself against him.

What can I say? I'm sexually deprived.

"Bella?" he asked, as he started to panic. Realizing that he might think I was delirious from the almost-accident, I responded quickly, just to let him know I was all right. His hands on my head and against my back began massaging me gently, trying to coax out a response from me. And they did. The subtle movement of his hands against my body were alerting my senses and if I didn't stop this now, I was going to dry hump him right here in the middle of a busy intersection in Downtown Seattle.

"Yeah, Edward. I think I'm good. And you? Are you okay?" I hadn't realized that he might be in pain as well, and suddenly my hands began touching him, looking for any signs of injury.

"I'm okay, Bella. But you scared the shit out of me," he whispered, his voice tender, yet husky, and my heart gave a small leap of joy at this. We laid there for what seemed like hours as our eyes locked, our heaving breaths mixing with the cold air around us, and we could not disconnect from each other.

I heard a throat clear loudly behind us, and I turned to see a man, standing beside the car, scowling at us.

"I would really appreciate it if you got off my car right now. There's a hotel down the street. I'm sure you can continue the romance there," the irate man shouted at us.

Edward stood up quickly, offering his hand to pull me off the car. I quickly looked down and was grateful that there was no dent on it. It seemed to be one of those old cars that were indestructible and it made sense as to why an alarm hadn't gone off. Apologizing to the man about monopolizing his car, he grunted "whatever," got in the car and took off. Remembering that I had a Latte and a box full of Cuban pastries, I searched around to see that all of it had spilled onto the ground. I secretly kicked myself for having lost my food before remembering that Edward had just saved me. I needed to thank him and I joined him on the sidewalk.

I looked up to speak to him when I saw that his cold, emotionless mask was back in place. It confused me for a bit until I remembered how abrupt his mood changes could be. His detached glare bothered me and I hurried to thank and apologize for what happened moments ago, just to get it out of the way. The dark stain on his shirt was mostly hidden underneath his jacket that he'd buttoned up and it brought me back to the furious look on his face this morning. At least he had some kind of emotion then. Now, it was as if he didn't care.

"It's good to see that _some_ things don't change," he said, impassively. "You _were_ always prone to accidents. How you've made it all this time without me is beyond my comprehension."

_Asshole_.

"Yep, that's me, Clumsy Bella, always here to stroke that ego of yours. I'm glad to know it's not diminished throughout the years. It seems to still be safely intact."

I didn't want to seem ungrateful. He'd just saved my life. Right now I could be road kill, or at best, fighting for my life on the way to the hospital. I should be thankful for his rescue, but his little comment instantly reminded me of how incredibly cocky he could be.

"You think this is funny?" he shouted, and a small part of me was glad to have gotten some kind of reaction out of him. He stood about three feet in front of me, close enough to carry on a decent conversation in the middle of a noisy street, but far enough to keep a safe distance. His dark eyebrows were pulled together in anger, the crease between them deep enough to look like it was permanently etched on his face. He was rigid with ire and his voice rose higher with every word he spoke, grabbing the attention of those walking by. "The fact that you were almost run over and killed is comical to you? Dammit, Bella. You'd think that after all this time you would learn to be more careful. What is wrong with you?"

For some reason, that last question stung a bit. All types of emotions were threatening to take over me and I prayed that the ground would open up and swallow me whole. I was embarrassed at Edward's outburst, at the unwanted attention it was drawing from complete strangers as he scolded me, yelling at me as if I were a child. I was almost killed because of my over-consumed thoughts and emotions of our encounter this morning. The infuriated look on his face back at the bakery was still fresh in my mind and somehow, I still wished that I had been run over. That would've been better than standing here as he scolded me, letting him get the better of me, feeding into his arrogance and his obvious dislike of me.

What _was_ wrong with me? Did I think that after ten years apart we'd be what? Friends? Good old pals? That he'd want to catch up on things?

The Edward who stood in front of me today was not the Edward I knew before. The Edward I knew was caring, loving, self-sacrificing, and sometimes cocky. He had always loved me like no other..

I don't know what happened to him while he was living in Chicago, but this wasn't my Edward. I needed to realize that and forget him completely.

_My Edward?_

I shook my head from that thought, and straightened up, glaring at him.

"What do you care anyway? Until just a few minutes ago, you failed to acknowledge me, which was fine with me. I was willing to play along. But now you're yelling at me like you have a right to..."

His stance was still harsh as he looked incredulous. "I do have a right because I just risked my life to save yours. This is the thanks that I get?"

"Nobody asked you to save me!" I yelled back and it took everything in me to keep my hand against my side and not slap him for his disrespect. But just then a thought hit me. "Wait. Did you follow me? Did you run after me?"

At this he became still and silent. He backed off as if he'd been hit and after a moment, he still hadn't answered me. The hurried footsteps of passersby and the buzzing of nearby traffic were the only noises coming between us, surrounding us as we stood across from one another. After another tense, quiet moment that seemed to drag like hours of torture, I spoke first, needing to know why he'd done it.

"Why?"

Seeming resigned to have to answer, he straightened and deadpanned, "I don't know."

We both stood in silence as we stared at each other, ignoring the busy world around us.

He continued, "But I would've done it for anybody. I was just at the right place at the right time."

"Anybody," I whispered as he made it clear that I was just another faceless person in his otherwise perfect world. It shouldn't have hurt so much since we were practically nothing to each other now after ten years of absence. But it did. To him I was just_ anybody_.

Still eerily calm even as my emotions threatened to break me down in front of him and the citizens of Seattle, I dug my right hand into the back pocket of my slacks. I pulled out a twenty dollar bill and walked slowly towards him.

"You're right. I was being stupid. Thank you for saving me and I'm sorry for the inconvenience. Here." Reaching him, I slipped the twenty in his suit pocket, patting against his chest just to make sure it was still there. "This is for the dry-cleaning bill, Mr. Masen. I'm sorry for ruining your Armani Suit. I don't actually know how much it'll be to clean it, but I'm sure you know where my husband works."

He stood, his otherwise careless mood betrayed by the clenched fists at his sides, but he remained silent.

Taking two steps back, I smiled at him, silently reassuring him that he didn't need to risk anything for me anymore. "I'll be more careful from now on."

I turned around, both hoping and dreading that he'd come after me to speak. He didn't and I was grateful and saddened over this. But this was the way it was supposed to be.

I almost hoped that I hadn't ruined his Armani suit.

Almost.

* * *

_**Thank you guys so much for your encouragements. I've received reviews, alerts, and favorites for this story and I feel humbled. Thank you.**_

_**Sorry about the "sour" lemon with Jacob but that's just how life is in Bella's marriage.**_

_**And what did you think about Edward rescuing Bella? Why do you think he appeared out of no where? Let me know...**_

_**Please review. I won't know if I'm doing a good job if you don't tell me.**_


	3. Capítulo Tres: Olvidala

_**All Twilight characters belong to Stephenie Meyers. But the plot for this story is mine.**_

_**I want to thank Project Team Beta, especially LouderThanSirens and MojoPen, for their help with this chapter. Thanx a bunch, ladies!**_

_**A/N at the bottom...**_

* * *

**_Forget her  
_**_Jeff Buckley_

_Don't fool yourself!_

_She was heartache from the moment that you met her..._

_My heart feels so still_

_As I try to find the will to forget her somehow..._

_Oh I think I've forgotten her now..._

* * *

**Saturday, June 6, 1998**

* * *

_"Come and take a walk with me."_

_**"What's going on?"**_

"_I think it's time we say goodbye. We need to end it tonight."_

_**"Wh-what are you talking about?"**_

_"You know that the distance will kill us and it just makes sense to end things tonight in order to save ourselves the time and effort that would otherwise be wasted in trying to keep our relationship going..."_

_**"Why are you talking to me like that?"**_

_"You know better than anybody that long distance relationships don't work. We've seen it happen to people like Angela and Ben. The distance? The separation? It tore them apart and we should try to spare ourselves that kind of pain while we still can."_

_**"But we're not them. You and me, we're better than that."**_

Silence.

_**"Please talk to me. Don't do this. Don't push me away. We have everything planned out already. Talk to me, please."**_

"_There's nothing to talk about. We're both adults and once we start on our new paths, we will grow apart, we will meet new people and we will put our relationship in the past where it belongs. Chicago and Washington are a world apart and you cannot honestly tell me that we will last through whatever the real world might throw at us."_

_**"So that's it? That's all. So, the last two years we've been together meant absolutely nothing to you."**_

More silence.

_**"LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU! Are you honestly going to stand there and tell me I meant nothing...NOTHING**__**...to you?**_

_"No. That's not what I mean. I appreciate everything that you've done for me. Really I do. But now we're both adults. We graduated today and soon we'll be going our separate ways. Once we start out on our own we'll both put our pasts behind us so we can look to the future."_

_**"But **_**you're **_**my future."**_

_"Of course, I'll always love you...in a way. I will never forget our time together. But it's time to say goodbye. And who knows? You know what they say...'If you love something, let it go. If it comes back to you, it's yours forever.'"_

_**"'If it doesn't, then it was never meant to be.' Yeah, I've heard that one. Don't do this, please. Don't push me away. I love you and I can't live without you. Please..."**_

_"So I guess this is goodbye. I really, truly hope that you're blessed throughout your endeavors. I'll miss you...""_

_**"Don't...don't go, Bella. We're not done here."**_

_"Goodbye Edward."_

* * *

_"Time passes. Even when it seems impossible. Even when each tick of the second hand aches like the pulse of blood behind a bruise. It passes unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls, but pass it does. Even for me._

_New Moon By Stephenie Meyer Pg. 93_

* * *

**Friday, November 13, 2009**

* * *

I stood there as she walked away from me once again and I was struck by a sense of déjà vu.

But instead of the gloom of the moonless night and the menace of the towering trees around us, this time we were surrounded by tall buildings and busy pedestrians. Many of them on their cell phones speaking in hushed mumbles while others brushed by automatically as if they were sleepwalking. The blaring horns of traffic along with the shouts of drivers brought me back to the present, and I watched her pony tail swing from side to side, as she practically ran away from me. Again.

The sight of her walking away from me took me to the past. I felt once again like the seventeen year old that was left behind with no real explanations, no second chances. Nothing.

It had been more than ten years since I last saw her and no matter the distance between us and the decade of absence, somehow she still affected me. Even after years of disciplining my body, mind and heart to break away from her memory, it seemed that she had been standing in the shadows without my permission or my knowledge all along.

I had thought we were happy. I thought that my plans for the future would include her, no, would be _about_ her. I had been more than willing to spend the rest of my life with her even at that young age because I knew she would be the only one for me.

Apparently she had not felt the same way as she broke it off abruptly on the night of our graduation party. Up until that point, I was naïve enough to think that she loved me and believed that she would be more than willing to give her all to me as well.

_What had I done wrong? What happened? _I had asked myself these questions over and over again, walking in circles never finding the answers. It boggled my mind that she would just end it and not have the decency to tell me what happened; why had she changed her mind about us so abruptly.

I begged and pleaded for her to tell me that night in the woods but she was adamant in leaving me. She'd always had this defense mechanism in which she wouldn't open up. This scared me because I knew there was so much more to her words that night than what she was letting on.

Once she left me that night, I couldn't just stand there. I followed her home and almost got arrested by her father who told me to get off of his property. But I knew he was bluffing because I saw it in his face. He was confused at the sudden change in her demeanor as well. He hadn't even tried to stop me from running up the stairs after her.

I heard her cry from the other side of the locked door and I asked her to at least give me one more night with her. But she didn't relent. She just continued to cry as my heart was torn to shreds because of the distance she was imposing on us.

Why was she crying when _she_ was the one who had broken our relationship? Was it because she felt bad for hurting me? Or was it because she loved me and didn't want to let go after all? These questions plagued my mind after that night but after our separation and her blatant disregard of me, I'd realized that she had never loved me.

The next day I tried again when I learned she'd left early in the morning to the airport and had flown down to Florida to be with her mother and stepfather for the summer. I could have followed her there, but my parents begged me to stay and give her some time to figure out what to do. Reluctantly, I gave her that space. But if I had known that that would be the last time that I would see her, I would've done anything to go to Jacksonville, and get her back.

By the time she made it back to Washington, I was in Illinois starting at the University of Chicago.

Fate was a cruel, evil woman. Why, after all this time, would she bring Bella back into my life and parade her around in front of me after I'd promised myself that I would think of her no longer? Now that I was not _allowed_ to think of her anymore?

Beginning with the masquerade ball...

_Tanya and I had only arrived__ the day before from Chicago and had to get ready for the masquerade ball. Carlisle and Esme graciously opened up their home for us to stay at. __We'd known for__ three weeks that we would be__ moving to Seattle, __and had spent the rest of our time back home packing everything up and spending some time with Mom and Dad before making our journey._

_A small voice in the back of my mind -a voice I thought I'd trained well enough to keep quiet after all this time- reminded me of the history I left behind here in Washington more than ten years ago. But I quickly brushed my unnecessary concerns aside, knowing full well that out of over six-hundred thousand residents, I would never come across _her_. It was impossible._

_Or so I thought._

_I had been confidently walking through the party with my elegant wife beside me as arm candy while I noticed the eyes of both men and women raking over her slender physique. Her black and diamond dress clung to her body snugly and her long strawberry blonde hair was curled down to the ends, with a diamond barrette holding part of it __up. Tanya had these __crystal blue eyes that were striking against the black of her mask and she was gorgeous. So of course I, being the arrogant bastard that I am, walked as proud as a peacock with my wife clinging to me while we showed off to the rest of the guests at the ball._

_So focused on __our shameless display was I that I hadn't noticed my competitor's wife surreptitiously hide behind his massive body._

_But the moment I heard her name -_Isabella Marie_...out of all the names it had to be _that _fucking name- my head snapped to her so quickly I almost gave myself whiplash._

_I was suddenly breathless. I couldn't move._

_There she stood in all her stunning, breathtaking beauty in a sea-blue dress _-oh, that color still looks perfect on her- _that embraced her curvaceous womanly figure. Her ample breasts heaved__ against the fabric of her dress, distracting me for a second, __and I had to will my eyes to look away quickly. When we shook hands, I silently gasped at the electric warmth that passed between us__, a sort of magnetism clenching our palms together tightly. I was so transfixed by her full pink lips and the low murmur of her voice, that I hadn't been able to make out what she said.__ Her mask did little to hide the warm blush covering her heart-shaped face...and her eyes. Her eyes had me mesmerized for those few seconds that seemed like an eternity. There was a time in my life in which I was lucky to be looking into those dark chocolate pools for as long as I could. I needed to break our intense gaze, __and quickly looked down to her long mahogany locks lying upon her bare soft shoulders._

_The sight of her brought back memories of my lips kissing and nipping on those same shoulders while her small hands raked through my unruly hair and her arms surrounded me. Images of her heated body pressed against me and her whole essence overtaking my senses had both hit me like a wrecking ball and heightened the temperature of my body. __I was overwhelmed with the angelic girl that I once knew who had astonishingly become the exquisite woman before me. I slightly shook my head to get it out of the clouds because I needed it all to stop this instant if I wanted to take back control of the _situation_._

_I brought back to the forefront of my mind the day she broke me -the blank look on her face as her empty words squeezed the air out of my lungs without a care._

"Let me go, Edward. We're done. I don't want to be here and I have somewhere else I have to be. Do not call me or in any way try to reach me. Do not waste your time because I will not reciprocate. Just let me go, Edward."

_Even though my heart clenched at the memory of her words__, it served its purpose for remembering why I shouldn't care for her anymore. I quickly let go of her hand and pulled my wife forward to meet her__. I hid my hand behind me quickly, lightly shaking it to dispel the nostalgic feeling of her warm skin._

_Tanya was very intelligent, incredibly attractive and I felt a little vindicated at the look on Mrs. Black's face as she sized up the woman who stood proudly by my side._

_As the night went on, speaking to several other associates while they welcomed me into their firm, I could feel the_ _heat of _her _glare in my direction. But I ignored her._

_It wasn't until I noticed a movement from my periphery and I instinctively looked to her, that I began to lose control. I saw _her _blatantly rake her hand all over Black's chest, her other hand tugging on the strands of dark hair at the back of his neck, his eyes rolling back a bit at the attention he was receiving. I had to keep myself in check in order to maintain my composure __in front of the others. Only a handful of people noticed my tension- Carlisle and Esme had asked me about it and I brushed it off as nerves. Alice and Jasper mentioned having noticed__ my rigid posture later that evening to which I responded that I was just feeling a bit overwhelmed with all the new faces I met that night. Which was true in a way but it was only one particular person who was evoking this uneasiness._

_Before I'd gone all caveman on my wife in bed later that night -hoping that by making love to Tanya it would force my past out of my mind- I'd received a bottle of champagne that the Cullen's butler, Laurent, __handed to me on behalf of the Black's._

_I almost hurled the fucking bottle back at him, __but the only thing that would prove was that she was still affecting me after all this time. It would make me look like someone who had anger issues and that was__ certainly not what __I want the other associates to think of me. I needed to gain the other's trust at the law firm if I was__ to be successful in getting partner. Still, __I kept the bottle in the hopes of using it one day to celebrate my victory over Black as partner in the law firm._

_To show her all the things I've accomplished without needing her in my life._

These last two weeks were complete failure when I tried to bury the memory of her to the deepest recesses of my mind, and then today I had let my guard down.

Ever since the night of the masquerade ball, I could not get her out of my mind. Everywhere I went and everything I touched reminded me of Bella, and when I'd finally stop thinking of her during the day, she'd returned to me at night in my dreams. Dreams in which brown eyes walked away once again, leaving me in the darkness.

Was this a product of the memories that I had repressed, praying time and time again that she'd be erased from my mind? I thought I had been successful after all these years at blocking the past. But all along it was just quietly biding its time until the moment it could be freed, almost bringing me to my knees.

As I stood in line at the bakery stupefied and rendered speechless at the sight of her, I realized that all that effort that I had put into forgetting her, had been just a waste of time. I was having a mental battle with my heart while my eyes could not look away from her body. Her scent struck me strongly against the smell of coffee and pastries in the bakery. _How is that even possible? _I stood there not willing to move, mesmerized once again by her beauty.

It amazed me how much a person can change with time. She was still the Bella that I knew, but at the same time she was different. Her body had become this voluptuous instrument that my fingers trembled with anticipation to touch. My hands wanted to journey down her curves and shape themselves around her hips as if I were molding her out of clay. My body began inching closer to her as her magnetism pulled me to her, and all I wanted to do was wrap myself around her and breathe her scent in until I forgot my name. As she turned away from the counter I took in her face, and even though I had seen it two weeks ago, this time she wasn't hiding behind a mask. _Exquisite_. It had matured, yes, the roundness of her youth gone with time, but her full enticing lips and her deep brown eyes still took my breath away. Her make-up was light but her face was tinged with a slight pink as she blushed shyly, her radiating smile making me gasp at the sight of it.

But then I woke up. Without realizing where she was going, she ran into me, holding a large cup of hot coffee in her hand as it squished between the two of us bringing me back to reality. The scalding sensation of the hot liquid on my skin as it seeped through my shirt had brought me out of my stupor and I became angry with both Bella and with myself.

Where in the hell was my head just now? Why do I let her get to me like this? Why does she have to be back in my perfectly structured life and throw me off completely? What is she to me?

_And let's not forget that Alice will crucify me for ruining the Giorgio Armani suit she gave to me just last week_

Her voice broke through my thoughts, apologizing profusely to me, not having noticed who I was. The instant she looked to see who'd she had run into, her chocolate eyes began to fill with unshed tears and the tenor of her apologies changed to something more...personal? As if she was asking forgiveness for something more than just her clumsiness. Something in me cracked as I took in the tears that slipped quickly out of the corners of her eyes, and my heart screamed for me to hold her and tell her that everything was okay. How did every angry tear I'd ever shed, every long letter that I had poured my heart into and sent to her without a reply, and every dark moment of loneliness suddenly vanish from me enough to want to comfort _her_? My heart and my mind pulled on each side of the rope, trying to sway me one way or the other way in an emotional tug-o'-war.

_Remember...Ruined...Armani..Suit...Dead._

Even through my drenched shirt and the numbing heat on my abdomen as she futilely patted me with a weakened napkin, her touch was electrifying. I felt the warm graze of her fingers against my body, alighting every nerve ending with a buzz of excitement due to her proximity.

Bella eventually gave up, and after receiving her replacement latte, she tried to help mop up the mess she'd made. Something in my heart tugged at that. Still, I removed my handkerchief from my pocket and began swiping at the stain on my shirt and pants as I walked passed her, on my way to the register.

But my mind stayed behind with her, still focused on the moment we just shared, something that I had craved for years: just one more moment. I felt the warm connection that held me to her begin to fade and I looked behind me to see her running out of the bakery.

_Don't let her go._

I didn't even bother ordering anything. The customers standing in line behind me seemed to be losing their patience as they huffed and began to complain underneath their breaths. The young black man standing behind the cash register had a look of both confusion and nervousness. Not wanting to provoke the other patrons from starting up, he asked, "Did you need something, sir?"

Yes, I needed something. What it was, I didn't know. An explanation? An apology? I became angrier by the second the further she got away from me. _How dare she walk away from me again? _This was my moment, the opportunity that I'd always wanted to have to speak with her. I needed to release all my anger, all the years that I'd spent chasing after an empty dream. I wanted her to stand there and listen to what I had to say, confront her and tell her everything until I would think of her no more. I wanted to ask her why she had been so callous after everything we had been through.

Another part of me was screaming at myself for being so stupid. _What does it matter what happened ten years ago?_ She's absolutely nothing to me, no more than a mere memory. But here I am, getting worked up about her when I have a life of my own, something I've been building _without _her. Yet somehow I was still being drawn to her. I needed to tell her that. That I'm a better person _without _her, that I'm glad that we went our separate ways because I've been able to make something of myself, by myself and had a great life, _without _her. She was going to listen to every word I had to say, whether or not she wanted to and she wasn't going to run away from me again.

I abruptly turned away from the young man behind the counter, rushed passed the irate customers and began running towards the direction I was being drawn to. My mind was working overtime, thinking of everything I wanted to tell her, debating on what I should say while searching for Bella among the sea of people in the crowded streets of Downtown Seattle.

But my breath caught in my throat and my whole world stopped. My eyes took in the scene before me as Bella began to cross the street blindly into a busy intersection, in the pathway of a speedy yellow cab that was already too close to stop its collision with her.

_Not her._

I couldn't think of anything else but getting to Bella. Immediately my legs pushed hard against the concrete beneath me as I shoved unsuspecting pedestrians out of my way and thanked God I was naturally a fast runner. I don't think I've ever moved so quickly in my life.

The moment my fingers grasped her shoulders to pull her back to me, I felt whole. I pulled her strongly, turning her towards me as she began to lose her balance. She quickly grabbed on to my shoulders, bringing me down with her as we began to fall. I instinctively wrapped my left arm around her waist, my right hand cradling her head, protecting her from the impact of the parked olive green Oldsmobile we were landing on and the weight of my body that would surely crush her.

Our linked bodies landed harshly on the strong metal of the old car, knocking the air out of us and we gasped desperately for it. My elbows had slammed down against the hood we landed on, the striking pain of it quickly clawing its way up my arm. My lungs were screaming for air, my heart beating strongly against my chest, and I felt the burn in my legs from running to get to her as quickly as possible.

But she was safe and that's all that mattered.

Looking down I noticed her breathing began to calm as her eyes squeezed shut. The moment she opened those beautiful pools of mocha, they locked onto mine and I forgot everything. It was like a moment of clarity for me, a revelation. But as much as my heart yearned for it to be true, I fought it off with all my might because it couldn't be. Not after all this time. I pushed those old feelings aside to ponder over when I was by myself, but right now, I couldn't think of that.

In the mere moments we stared at each other, the noises of the city muffled to a low volume and it seemed like everything moved in slow motion, separating Bella and I from the world. I could almost feel the light drops of rain slow down around us, giving us this moment to just be. I took in the slight tinge of pink spread across her porcelain face, the light smattering of freckles over her nose and cheeks, bringing me back to the adolescence in which I knew her. My eyes were instantly brought down to her full pouty lips as her tongue licked along those, leaving glistening moisture behind. I held myself from lowering my head those few inches and pressing my lips against hers. I suddenly realized how my body lined with hers -her breasts pushing against my torso with every deep breath she took, our abdomens moving together, my hips pressed gently right against her warm center- and my body responded to our nearness while it took everything in me not to grind myself into her.

I saw her eyes squint in pain and I began to panic, wondering if she'd broken anything, bruised her soft skin.

"Are you okay, Bella?" I asked her. Her eyes glazed over and I wondered if she hit her head. I massaged her back and neck, hoping to bring her back to me. It reminded me of the time I pulled her out of the cold water back in La Push.

_She had been dared by Jessica Stanley to jump off the cliff while they were visiting First Beach and never in a million years did I think Bella would actually do it. But she did. I had been helping my parents out with the yard before meeting our group of friends there and had just arrived in time to see Bella about to jump off._

_She lifted her arms out wide to each side of her as if she wanted to reach both the east and west ends of the Earth. Her face was raised toward the moist, cold air of the ocean, and her long brown hair flew in all directions from the rough winds around her. She wore a slight smile upon her delicate features as her nose and cheeks turned pink from the cold__. She stood at the edge of the cliff as if she were ready to fly high like a bird, beautiful and carefree. With her eyes closed, she bent her knees and launched herself off into the wild waters. I panicked as I watched her plunge into the abyss before her but a part of me couldn't help but see how breathtaking she looked in that moment. I ran__ as fast as I could while the other idiots stood by and watched her sink into the ocean. The adrenaline rush overtook me and I quickly jumped in after her. Through the rough winds and large waves crashing over us, threatening to take us down, I drug her back onto the sand and panicked when she didn't respond __at first. Working on what little I knew of CPR, I brought her back to me in just a few moments while everyone stood around us, Angela running towards the car to bring back a wool blanket to wrap her in._

I held her just like I was now, as close to me as physically possible, and massaged her scalp and lower back gently with my hands. I was both relieved and furious at Bella for having done something so reckless and stupid. It took a couple of weeks for me to finally forgive her and speak to her even though I saw her every day, and spent almost every moment with her.

"Bella?" I called out again.

"Yeah, Edward, I think I'm good," she responded and I breathed a sigh of relief, even though my heart beat faster at the sound of my name. "And you? Are you okay?" Her hands roamed around me, searching for any signs of injury. I worked to control the excitement of her touch.

"I'm okay, Bella. But you scared the shit out of me."

I would've stayed for hours, just to take her in as much as possible if it weren't for the angry owner of the Oldsmobile, infuriated at our monopolizing his car. As we stood up and away from the car, I looked all around me to see some of the passers-by walking slowly, taking in the scene before them. How long had we been in that intimate position? What if someone who knew one or both of us had seen us that way? Again, I internally scolded myself for being so stupid, for letting this woman affect me like this. This woman who mattered to me more than I wanted to admit.

I worked to compose myself. I needed to rein in any emotion that would give away the intense feelings she had been provoking in me. I needed to separate myself, step out of who I used to be and be the person I worked hard to become today.

"It's good to see that _some_ things don't change," I began. "You _were_ always prone to accidents. How you've made it all this time without me is beyond my comprehension."

"Yep, that's me, Clumsy Bella, always here to stroke that ego of yours," she snapped. "I'm glad to know it's not diminished throughout the years. It seems to still be safely intact."

If I hadn't been so incensed with her, I would've been endeared with her kittenish anger as her tender face reddened and her tiny fists clenched tightly at her sides. But she had the audacity to make light of the situation and was being very ungrateful. Who knows where'd she'd be right now if it weren't for me? But what would've happened if I was two seconds too late? The thought of almost losing her caused a pain inside of me that almost crippled me. I couldn't hold back my anger any longer and lashed out at her, without a care as to who would hear.

"You think this is funny?" I yelled. She recoiled from me as I scolded her. What in the hell was she thinking when she wasn't looking around before crossing the street? Why didn't she realize that she could've died in that moment? _I could've lost her. _"The fact that you were almost run over and killed is comical to you? Dammit, Bella. You'd think that after all this time you would learn to be more careful. What is wrong with you?"

She stayed silent for just a small moment, but I saw sadness cross her face before she squared her shoulders, her posture instantly rigid as she prepared to strike back.

"What do you care anyway?" she shouted right back. "Until just a few minutes ago, you failed to acknowledge me, which was fine with me. I was willing to play along. But now you're yelling at me like you have a right to..."

Incredulous, I yelled, "I do have a right because I just risked my life to save yours. And _this _is the thanks that I get?"

"Nobody asked you to save me!" she yelled right back. But then she stood still and her head tilted to the side as if she was suddenly catching on to something. "Wait. Did you follow me? Did you run after me?"

Why did I suddenly feel as if I were caught red handed?

_"Did you follow me? Did you run after me?"_

I ran those two questions over and over again in my mind, but I couldn't seem to bring myself to say anything. I took a step back as the weight of her questions hit me like a punch in the gut. For the last two weeks, I had been drowning myself in work and clients to keep my mind busy, keeping myself buried in my wife as much as possible during our times of intimacy. I even made sure to stay on my end of the thirtieth floor where the law offices were stationed in order to avoid running into Black. All of that in the hopes that I could forget her and though none of it worked, it would've made sense to ignore if ever I should run into her. But still I chased out after her with a conviction of confronting her that was slowly dwindling away the more I stood in her presence.

"Why?" she asked, her voice trembling with nervousness and curiosity.

I couldn't answer her. Even though my brain was currently screaming at me to tell her everything, to get this over with in the hopes to never let her affect me like this again, I just couldn't. It was neither the appropriate time nor place to do that and I was already becoming weary with all of the yo-yoing of emotions I'd gone through today.

_Because I still lo..._

"I don't know," I retorted. I needed to leave her with the impression that she didn't affect me any longer, even though it was a lie. "But I would've done it for anybody. I was just at the right place at the right time." Which was true. If anyone else had been in the same predicament as her, I would've risked myself to help them. Right?

I noticed her lips move gently as she whispered something to herself and she slowly walked towards me, her hips swaying rhythmically. As she reached behind her, pulling a thin object from the back pocket of her snug black slacks, she said, "You're right. I was being stupid. Thank you for saving me and I'm sorry for the inconvenience." The few people who slowed down around us, quickly began to disperse. My mind was blank as Bella finally stood in front of me, lifted her hand towards my suit pocket and slipped what looked like a dollar bill inside. Her proximity once again threatened to cripple me and I worked to stand as rigid as possible. "Here- this is for the dry-cleaning bill, Mr. Masen." _Mr. Masen?_ "I'm sorry for ruining your Armani Suit. I don't actually know how much it'll be to clean it, but I'm sure you know where my husband works."

At the mention of her husband, my fists clenched at my side and I saw a smirk grace her features. It slowly turned into a saddened smile and once again, I wanted to reach out to her and erase her pain.

"I'll be more careful from now on," she said calmly. And then she turned and walked away, her ponytail swaying from side to side, our connection fading more the further she got away.

She left me speechless in the middle of the street. It seemed like our encounter had lasted no longer than the a mere twenty minutes. I shook my head out of its stupor and pulled out the twenty dollar bill she hid inside my suit pocket. _Twenty bucks? _I thought to myself and quickly shoved the bill back in my pocket, not knowing what I was going to do with it and began walking back to my car.

Once again she walked away from me. Once again she had the last word.

As much as I fought against it, I kept thinking over everything that happened today with Bella. But as soon as I arrived home and drove my car inside the garage, I realized that I completely forgot about the bread that Tanya asked me to get for dinner from the bakery. I forgot the fact that today she wanted to celebrate our anniversary. Not our wedding anniversary or even the anniversary from the start of our relationship. No it was the-day-that-we-met anniversary. And I worked to contain my wandering thoughts before making my way inside, pulling on my tie and releasing it from around my neck.

There stood Tanya by the door, ready to greet me as always. With a small kiss on my cheek, she removed my jacket and took my briefcase to place inside my office. The smell of garlic, shrimp and cayenne pepper made my mouth water instantly, drawing me away from the front door and towards the dining room where everything was readily served. Everything looked great, as it always did and I hugged Tanya in appreciation of everything she had made for me. Not just for tonight but for everything she had done for me since the moment I tried to help her get to the hospital after spraining her ankle.

_I had been on my way from my apartment in Downtown Chicago to the Symphony at the Park, where my parents were waiting for me to join them. It wasn't something I wanted to do but felt obligated to oblige them with this simple outing. Well, to be honest I hadn't been myself since moving to Chicago, especially since __receiving the latest news about Bella. __I had been cocooning myself in my apartment for quite a while. It had been about four years since the last time I'd seen her and my parents were beyond frustrated with the way I'd been going on through life, or just floating by, trying not to be noticed. During the time I was at school, I concentrated hard on my studies, making up for the year in which I almost screwed up my entire future by__ uselessly waiting for Bella to come back __to me._

_After parking my car nearby, I grudgingly began to make my way towards the Symphony as I passed by the ice skating park. Even though I'd drowned myself in depression__, I couldn't help but stop and look at everything around me. Chicago during fall and winter__ was very beautiful even to __a bitter jerk like me. The night was dark and even though the lights of the downtown area blocked most of them out of sight, I could make out __some stars in the blanket of darkness. In front of me were many people -both young and old, locals and visitors, some of them on dates while others had their girl's night out- skating on the large surface of ice that was here every year._

_One woman in particular caught my eye and although I was known as a recluse around campus and even with my family, I found myself wanting to meet her. The strawberry blonde who wore a hunter green sweater, dark jeans and a white cap to match her mittens and jacket, was very self __focused on her skating. Although she was obviously a very beautiful woman, her face was graced with a smile that was so child-like, so innocent, that it lifted the corner of my mouth to produce a small smile of my own. I hadn't done that in an extremely long time and when I did, it was always forced and I never cared if anyone noticed its artificiality._

_But this woman did make me smile and I wanted to meet her. As if fate decided to listen now to my heart, someone crashed into the beautiful woman by accident, causing her to fall to the side and twist her ankle in the process. I didn't even think twice. I jumped over the barrier of the__ rink and ran towards her as others gathered around her. I looked around to see if anyone knew her but eventually I learned that she had been there by herself. The moment I looked into her frosty blue eyes to ask her permission to take her to the nearest hospital, I knew we could at least be friends. I called my parents apologizing for my absence at the Symphony, quickly explaining to them that I was on my to the hospital, taking a woman with a sprained ankle._

It was then that I began seeing Tanya. Although she had been grateful for my kindness, at first she didn't take to me so well. She seemed to have trust issues with people, especially men. With time, she let me in, if only a little, and we became friends.

It was six years ago that I met Tanya, pulling me out of the abyss I had drowned myself in, and I have been grateful for her presence ever since. But for the past two weeks, I feel like I've thrown my appreciation for my wife out the window by not ridding myself of Bella's memory. And again, as it had done for the last fourteen days, the guilt consumed me and I couldn't look Tanya in the eye anymore and tell her that I loved her. If I was being honest with myself, I had never been able to do that. I felt like such an asshole for that because she had been nothing but giving.

Maybe I needed to make an effort to speak with Bella again. This time I would seek to get closure from our past so that I can love my wife the way she had always deserved. I had to speak with her, get everything out in the open and once that was done, I'm sure that I would be able to put Bella in the past where she belonged. Just like she had promised me that night in the woods behind my house. Then I could forget her and finally, after six years, give myself fully to Tanya.

This time, Bella wasn't getting away from me. No, this time, _I_ would be the one to walk away. _I _would have the last word.

* * *

**A/N: So what do you think of Edward's POV? About the break-up scene?**

**I'm so sorry for the delay on this chapter. But I must be honest. My brain works slowly. It takes time to think this stuff and have it make sense (If it does makes sense). To some authors, the words just flow. To me, not so much. Plus my three year old daughter requires my constant attention. But I'm amazed by the response I've been getting for this story and I'm grateful to each and every one of you -for your reviews, favorites and alerts. Thank you from the bottom of my heart and I'll try to get the next chapter before I turn thirty. (So not looking forward to that. I've decided to start a sort of bucket list and it was inspired by _Jayeliwood's The List._ Love that story - You guys should read it.)**


	4. Capítulo Cuatro 1: Exhibicion

**_All righty, ladies. Once again, sorry for the delay. This chapter was HUGE! (12,000 words) and after a really good suggestion, I decided to break this chapter into two parts. But don't fret. The second part will come out as soon as this one gets validated._**

**_I would like to thank Project Team Beta, especially Lindsey21412 and LoriAnnTwiFan. Thanks for looking out. You guys are great!_**

**_Also want to thank magan bagan for validating._**

**_So here's parte numero uno... and I'll see you at the bottom_**

* * *

"So, I had a client in today."

_It felt good- _too _good. The way his strong arms cocooned me from the impact was just... guh!_

"She was involved in a motor vehicle accident a few months ago..."

_And he smelled amazing. Just the right touch of soap, after shave, and _him_. If only the rest of the world could've disappeared in that moment..._

"...suffered spinal injuries to her neck and lower back and it worsened her pre-existing fibromyalgia..."

_No, Bella! You shouldn't think that way. Just be grateful that you're alive and move the hell on._

"According to her rheumatologists, she can't return to her high-stress job..."

_If I just tilt my head low enough, I could still smell him on my clothes. _Sniff_, so, so good..._

"And then Carlisle came into the office and began to strip out of his clothes..."

_And I'm almost one-hundred percent sure I felt him harden against me..._

"By the time he showed me his red thong, one of the other associates came in dressed up in a black leather cat suit, holding a long whip in his hand, asking me if I had been a bad boy."

_Uh...what?_

"Uh...what?" I asked. I looked up to see my husband sitting across the table, with a look of both amusement and irritation on his face. His eyes were peering down on me as I squirmed beneath his gaze. I had been caught not paying attention to the stories of his clients once again, and I felt especially guilty about where my thoughts had just been.

This was routine in our home. Jacob would come home, dinner would be ready, and he'd sit at the head of the table, droning on and on about his cases. He, in turn, would pretend to listen when I talked about work. Work, work, work. It had been the main topic of conversation for a long time between us, and it just added to the monotony of our marriage.

"Did you hear anything I said?" he asked, his tone having lost any sign of amusement now. I quickly shoved a spoonful of rice pilaf in my mouth and nodded my head to appease him. I heard him well enough; I was just too tired to join in the conversation, and my mind was still going over the events of earlier this afternoon. But I shoved those thoughts aside for the moment and decided to change the subject.

"Did you remember to tell Leah to pencil me in to your schedule like I asked you to?" I asked him as patiently as possible.

In about three weeks, we were having Career Day for my third grade class, and I had several people, including Jake, coming in to speak to my students. It had been an event of sorts for as long as I have been a teacher to bring in work professionals to speak of their occupations. When Jacob first became an attorney, I' had asked him to speak to my third graders, and he had been a hit with them. He displayed this innocence with them I had only seen when he was around his niece Claire, and it made me hopeful that one day we'd be able to have children of our own. But, for the last two years, he hadn't shown up for Career Day as he promised, and I wanted to make sure that didn't happen again this time around. I found it a bit absurd that I had to constantly remind him to make an appointment so that he could give me the time of day, but I didn't want to start up with that topic.

Now, it was his turn to avoid my gaze, and I got my answer before he even began to speak. "Uh, not yet. When I get in on Monday, I'll let her know," he mumbled. Not believing him for a second, I stood from my chair and began picking up our plates with a hint of exasperation. I was working to control my anger, not wanting to break the china I was gathering from the dinner table. He sighed as he tossed his napkin in front of him and leaned back in his seat. "Are you mad now?"

"Jacob, it's a simple request." I stopped, the clanking of dirty dinner plates was loud as I laid them hard on the table, my hands clutching tightly onto them. "I just need two hours of your time. This is very important to me and my kids."

"I know it is," he began but I cut him off quickly.

"Do you? Because I sure as hell don't see it."

"What is that supposed to mean?" he asked, defensively.

"Jacob, this is the third time you've committed to this and so help me, if you miss this again..."

"How many times do I have to apologize for missing the Career Day thing? I don't understand why you keep bringing it up," he yelled, his arms flailing all around him.

"I don't want your apologies, Jake," I followed just as loudly. "I just want you to show up. How come I have to constantly remind you of things?"

"I have a lot on my plate, Bells. I'm working as hard as I can to make things better for us."

_Yeah right, for us_, I wanted to scoff, but I knew this would only add fuel to the fire and I just wanted to end this conversation. My voice was becoming hoarse from all the emotions that had threatened to break me today, and this was draining me even more. "Seriously, Jake. It's really simple. Just tell your _precious _secretary that I need you on the fourth of December between twelve and two. It's not that hard. As a matter of fact..."

I turned from him, leaving the dishes on the table to retrieve our cordless house phone. I pressed the number "2," as Leah was the second person on its memory list, right after my dad. Of course, it wasn't _my _idea.

"My precious secretary?" he asked incredulously, as he stalked after me. "Why do you have to be like that with her? She's done nothing to you. She's one of the hardest working people I know and..."

"Okay, I don't care about Saint Leah," I said, exasperated. _How did this conversation all of a sudden become about Leah?_ I asked myself as I glared at Jacob from my side of the room. I hated it when he spoke about her as if she were some miracle sent down from the heavens. I tapped my foot on the ground as I waited for him to make a move, my arms crossed tightly in front of me. With the phone in my hand, my thumb hovering over the "call" button, I stood there expectantly as Jacob approached me. He gently took the phone and placed it back on its base.

"I'm not calling her now. It can wait until Monday," Jacob said. As I began to speak, he raised his hands in surrender. "I don't want to fight anymore, Bells. I'll do it on Monday morning, I promise," he sighed. He took a few steps to his right and leaned against the wall, his shoulders hunched forward, his eyes red with exhaustion. It seemed that he was just as tired as I was. Seeing him vulnerable like this reminded me of the Jacob I once knew, the one I gave my body and word to, if nothing else. Giving in to his promise, I walked up to him as he opened his arms and slowly wrapped them around me. I laid my head against his chest and sighed as his warmth surrounded me. We stood there for a while as we just held on to one another, something we hadn't genuinely done in a long time.

This was one of the things I missed about Jacob. I could remember a time when we did this sort of thing frequently. No matter how much we needed to study or how many part-time jobs we had to work, we somehow found time to be like this. Back in our humble days, we would cuddle up in front of the television and just relax and forget about the world around us.

When I met Jacob, I found that we had some things in common. For one, both of our childhoods had been difficult. My parents were divorced before my fifth birthday, and my mom took me to live with her in Phoenix, citing many times how happy she was to be out of the clutches of Forks and my father. Renee had always been too much of a free spirit, and other than me she didn't warm to the idea of being held down by anyone. My father, on the other hand, was left by himself. We had become strangers to one another throughout the years, much to his disappointment. It wasn't until my junior year in high school when I moved back to Forks that we began to have a real relationship. It hadn't happened very quickly, but eventually, I had warmed up to him and had taken care of him ever since.

But, even through all of that, I was the lucky one. At least my parents were alive.

Jacob lost his parents in a horrible automobile accident when he was still in grade school. Soon, he was shipped off to Hawaii to live with his appointed guardian, Aunt Rebecca, having to start a life again without the two most important people in his world. I can only imagine losing everything you've ever known in the blink of an eye.

It seemed like fate that one day on my way to a class at UDub, I would run into him of all people. Granted, the only time we met prior to that was when we were about three or four years old, obviously too young to remember. But, once Charlie found out about Jacob's return to Washington, he had taken him under his wing as a father would. Charlie had spoken to me many times about opening myself up to him; he said that Jacob came from a good, modest family and that he was the best remedy to lift me out of my depression. Trusting Charlie's word, I did just that after hiding for so long.

Jacob was warm, kind, playful, and trustworthy. He had always been protective of me, and even though I knew I could never truly love him as he deserved, I was selfish. I didn't want to be alone anymore. I didn't want to hide like a coward. I wanted to trust someone, rely on him and learn to love again, even if it wouldn't reach the depth to which I felt for Edward.

After graduating magna cum laude from the University of Washington, Jacob was hired by Cullen & Associates, the firm where he'd done his internship. The thrill of winning cases for his clients along with how exhilarating it felt to be an essential part of the team had soon taken precedence in his life. It was almost like he had more passion for his career than he had for me.

Still, I missed the old Jacob, the one who frequently held me just like he was in that moment. I had to take what I could get because as, routine would have it, he would soon ask me to let him go so that he could finish some paperwork. Not a moment too soon, Jacob patted my back as if I were his buddy instead of his wife, his signal that I step away, and we separated ourselves from each other. I found my way back into the kitchen to clean up after dinner, as he went straight into his office and closed his door.

Later that evening we showered (separately, of course) and got ready for bed. I had to wake up early the next day for my weekly trip to visit Charlie. After turning the bedside lamps off, Jake placed a soft kiss on my left cheek and turned to his side, quickly drowning the silence of our room with the low rumble of his snores.

I lay back on my pillow and stared unseeingly at the ceiling, not able to fall asleep because my mind was racing a hundred miles a minute. Every time I closed my eyes, the memory of Edward's intense gaze made an appearance against the darkness of my eyelids, making my heart palpitate faster. Remembering how the hard lines of his body pressed tightly against mine and how good his strong hands felt massaging my scalp and back, my breathing picked up, and my skin warmed with the memory of his touch. My body tingled at the thought of what else his hands could've done to me, and I looked to my right, making sure Jacob wouldn't wake up with my movements.

I closed my eyes and imagined that Edward and I were back on the hood of that car, the world outside of our bubble moving around us in a blur.

_The hand that had been massaging my back slowly moved around to my front, crawling north and landing decidedly on my aching breast, kneading it. His fingers tweaked my sensitive peaks as they pebbled almost uncomfortably underneath his touch through the fabric of my blouse and bra._

My left hand roamed underneath the fabric of my nightie, massaging my tender breast, pinching my already hardened nipple as I imagined it was his hand instead. The other slipped beneath the waistband of my panties and I gasped at how wet I already was as I stroked my warm, throbbing sex, making deliberate circular motions.

_His warm breath that caressed my skin was followed by the smoothness of his lips as he licked and nipped unhurriedly. My body was on fire, the air around us seemed __to heighten in temperature and my tender clit quivered in the __anticipation of feeling him so tightly against me. His entire body shifted __on top of me as he ground his hips against mine, his hard __length hitting me at my most wanton spot, __and we moved in a slow rhythm as I sought out the pleasure that only he could give._

My hips rotated in time with my moistened fingers and I soon found myself gasping in pleasure. I felt warm all over, and I licked my lips, holding the bottom one between my teeth, trying to hold in my whimpers. A thin finger, then two slipped inside of me, seeking my sweet spot as the heel of my palm rubbed deliciously against my nub. My other hand moved to my right breast, adding pressure to it when Jacob's snores were interrupted as a small cry of pleasure escaped my lips. While my brain screamed that I should stop now, or at least take it somewhere else, the rest of my body kept going, and I looked to the side, gasping and sighing in relief that Jake hadn't woken up.

Although the possibility of getting caught in the act by Jacob added on to my arousal, I didn't want him to wake up thinking that I needed him. I didn't want him to taint this moment as I finished myself off to thoughts of _him_.

By this time, four of my fingers fucked me harder as they reached deep inside me and the heel of my hand stroked against my swollen clit. I moved with abandon as I reveled in how hot and soaked I was. My eyes moistened with tears as the certainty of my impending orgasm and the intensity at which my heart raced as I thought of Edward, my savior, literally and figuratively, was taking a bold hold of my emotions. I wanted to cry from both the pleasure of my imminent, long-desired release and pain of my never-forgotten broken heart, at wanting something or someone that didn't belong to me, of betraying my husband who slept by me as I got off to thoughts of another man.

I bit my lip to hold in the whimpers of ecstasy as my body trembled from my explosive release, failing at keeping silent with my loud breathing. My fingers kept moving against me, slowing down as I drew out my orgasm for as long as I could.

As reality came back in full force, the guilt over touching myself to the memories of another man while in bed with my sleeping husband soon began to take a hold of me, and I quickly rushed to the bathroom to wash my hands of my sin. Was this just as bad as being unfaithful, even if I hadn't been with someone else? If I were in Jake's shoes, would I consider that cheating? I pushed the thoughts of my husband grasping his length while silently calling some other woman's name in the heat of the moment out of my mind, promising myself to never let that happen again. But my body betrayed me, feeling lighter, more refreshed from my orgasm than it had been in a long time, and the very moment I slid back under the covers of my bed, my body succumbed happily, satisfyingly into exhaustion.

The rest of the weekend flew by fast when I went to visit Charlie in Forks, and I soon found myself returning to the Bakery on Monday morning. I thought about texting Jacob and remind him to tell Leah about Career Day but stopped myself, knowing that I should trust him with this. I hoped greatly that he wouldn't disappoint me again.

I was proud of myself for not looking around for Edward and had been doing pretty well when the distinct scent of him permeated the air around me. I kept myself from breathing in any more than was necessary, but I knew him to be close by the slight buzz coming from behind me. Still, I stayed facing forward, refusing to acknowledge him.

It wasn't until I arrived at the front of the line and was about to order that someone appeared to my right, slowly pushing my hair aside and whispering lowly, seductively, "I missed you, baby." With a big smile on my face, I launched myself at my best friend, Carmen, embracing her with all my might. We both began to squeal loudly in the middle of the Bakery, drawing the attention of everyone around us. Even though I still felt Edward behind me, I was very happy to see Carmen, and I hoped her presence would help divert my thoughts away from him.

"Oh, Carmen! I missed you, too – so much. Don't leave me for so long next time," I cried in happiness. I heard an annoyed huff behind me, and I quickly moved to order my Nutella Latte. Carmen added her order to mine and paid for us both, even when I insisted I pay. We quickly received our orders and made our way to _our _table.

Carmen and I had a morning ritual that revolved around meeting here every morning before heading out to work. But she had been gone for a month -some of it for business- and this was the first time I'd seen her since. She traveled sometimes because of her work, and she absolutely loved it. The rest of her time was spent in Spain, where most of her family is originally from, and I was so jealous because of it. I had a chance to visit only once in my life, and I've been dying to go back ever since.

As soon as we sat down, my eyes instinctively searched for Edward as he put in his order, and I shook my head, berating myself for it. But, as much as I had ignored him this morning, he seemed to be doing the same and quickly left the Bakery after receiving his order. Without realizing it, I frowned at his sudden departure, and Carmen immediately noticed my mood change.

"Are you okay?" she asked, concerned. Her head tilted to the side as she lightly shook her _Sweet & Low _packets and poured them into her coffee, waiting for my response.

"Yeah, I'm okay," I mumbled, avoiding her gaze. Suddenly, I became interested in the swirly designs on the clear cup I held between my hands.

"Are you sure? You spaced out on me for a second," Carmen searched my face as if she could find an answer there. "Are you still having problems with Jacob?"

Carmen and Rosalie knew all too well about my problems with Jake. For a while, they advised me on different tactics to use and hints that I could leave behind for him. When that didn't work, they told me to talk directly to him, but it went in one ear and out the other. Finally, they convinced me after lots of persuasion, to contact a couple's therapist to talk about our sex life, or lack thereof. When I mentioned this to him, Jacob quickly brushed it off, claiming that he wasn't a sexual deviant, and that he wouldn't be joining me. This, in turn, made me feel like I was the sexual deviant.

I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head, needing for her to leave that subject alone this morning. She nodded in understanding, and I decided to change the subject. "How was your trip?" I asked, excited to hear of her family in Spain.

"_Chica_, I had so much fun over there. The food, the parties, the clubs, everything!" she squeaked excitedly. "And you know how my family is. All they did was feed me. I think I gained like ten or fifteen pounds with all the Paella and seafood they shoved down my throat. Especially my _A__buelita_. She kept going on and on about how I'm too skinny and that I'll never land a man looking like a skeleton." She said joyfully, her contagious mood raising my spirits, too.

"Man, I miss your grandmother," I said, remembering the strong-willed but kind-hearted woman.

Carmen was a tall and beautiful woman with caramel-colored skin, long, dark brown hair, and deep brown eyes. We would joke around with her, calling her J-Lo, which she absolutely hated, because of her amazing curves and ample backside. There were times when I stood by her and Rosalie, that I felt my self-confidence dwindle. Still, she was a great friend with a strong family background that I admired. I had the pleasure of meeting her grandmother, Paloma, back in my sophomore year in college, and she had left a deep impression in my life with her wisdom and strength in that short amount of time.

"Yes, and she misses you, too," Carmen responded. "As a matter of fact, she made me carry this on the plane with me just to make sure you received it." Slowly she lifted a brown paper gift bag onto the table and slid it towards me. Usually, I was strongly opposed to receiving gifts, but because it was from Carmen's _Abuelita_, I was excited to find out what she'd sent to me. "I had to fight with airport security in Málaga, LaGuardia, and SeaTac to let me bring it to you. I told them it was matter of life and death, that it was my grandmother's dying wish."

I gasped at the news, my heart clenching at the thought of losing someone so dear to me, but Carmen quickly put me at ease as she laughed out loud. "Oh, please. That woman's not dying. She's as strong as an ox. She isn't going anywhere for a while. She's the one who told me to say that."

I laughed along with her and began to pull out the items from the bag. The first was a tall brown bottle of brandy with a yellow label on the front. The word VETERANO written in bold black letters and a small silhouette of a bull standing alone but proud right underneath its title. It quickly brought me back to the night _Abuelita _had found me sitting on my own at the beach in Málaga.

_It seemed that I couldn't escape him after all. Even in this place in which there was nothing to connect him to, he still haunted me. I had tried desperately to outrun him by coming to the other side of the world, __but I couldn't shake him off._

_It was a beautiful, warm night in Málaga; __the lights of the surrounding towns mixed with the stars above, reflected off the surface of the sea across from me. In a few days, I would go back to the darkness I'd sunk myself into exactly a year ago. It was the anniversary of the last day of my life, __and here I sat, drowning myself in tears that would not go away._

_Hearing movement behind me, __I quickly turned to find _Abuelita _looking down towards me in concern, her tanned face lined with years of wisdom and experience. I just wanted to be left alone, even if it meant __being apart from this heartwarming old soul. When I first met her, even though my Spanish was __rough as I was still learning it, and her English didn't seem to fair any better, she'd asked me to call her _Abuelita_. Grandmother. I should've felt weird about it seeing as I had just met her,__ but I called her that, __and it felt good to do so._

_"¿Que estas haciendo aqui sola, mi vida?" she asked, her deep voice strong but hoarse from years of hard work. I shook my head not wanting to explain my motives for being here, alone and crying, though I could tell she would not relent so easily. "Ven, ayudame a sentarme contigo". I shook my head not wanting her to strain herself by __sitting on the ground with me, __but one look into her intense black eyes showed me how serious she was. She had brought out an old woven blanket, __and I helped her lay it down for the two of us to sit on. On the other side of her, __I noticed a large bottle of brandy with two tin cups she'd brought as well. Once she was comfortable on the ground, I sat next to her. I didn't know how much time had passed, but we both just sat there staring at the beautiful __scenery in front of us as the soft, salty wind of the ocean caressed our skin._

_"¿Por que cargas tanta tristeza en esos ojos, querida?__" she asked __while__ I looked away, my traitorous tears escaping without end. Why did my eyes hold such sorrow? I wanted to explain __why I had carried this with me even so far away from home, but __I thought it would seem silly to a woman her age: the story of what I sacrificed a year ago in order to set him free. I shook my head, quickly responding in the best way possible, that I was just being silly and missed home a lot. She stared at me severely, as if I had insulted her by lying,__ and waited for the real truth to come out._

_And so it __did. I told her everything. From the beginning of my relationship with Edward, where at first I couldn't believe that someone so good-hearted and beautiful wanted to be with me. I relayed stories of our times together, the arguments we had that, as I sat here, I couldn't help but laugh at for their silliness. I told her of the events that took place that night in the woods and the reasoning behind the imposed distance I'd set between us. I expressed how hollow I'd been since then and how spoiled I was with everything he had given me. I told her that, because of him, __I felt like I was ruined for life._

_Waiting for her to scoff at my absurd story, I was surprised when she lifted my hand off the ground and gave it a small kiss. Without words, I knew then that she more than understood; she'd been there and whether or not she had lived a happily ever after, I would never know. That night, _Abuelita _just let me release all of the anger and sadness that I'd held within myself as she leant me her shoulder to cry on. I drank my first taste of VETERANO that night and, __though I'd nearly choked to death as Abuelita chuckled at the obvious inexperience I had with alcohol, it soon helped to soothe the ache, if only for that night._

_Her last words to me before I left Spain were: "No te olvides, mi querida: Eres como el ave fénix. De tus propias cenizas te levantarás."_

Abuelita made me promise that night to keep in touch with her even through the overwhelming distance between us. Even though I hadn't had the opportunity to visit her in Spain, I made it a mission to perfect my Spanish just so that I could communicate with her directly, if ever I needed her again.

She also made me promise that, the next time I saw her, I would be happy.

It might be one of the reasons why I never went back.

Shaking myself from the memories of Málaga, I pulled out the second item from the gift bag, which caused me to smile at the thoughtful gesture. Abuelita sent some Spanish-grown saffron, which was an essential ingredient when making Paella, and I just couldn't wait to put it to use.

"I'm going write her a letter tonight, thanking her for her gifts," I said, placing the two items back in the gift bag. "And thank you for risking yourself by bringing this to me."

Carmen scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Ah! What are friends for, right?" I nodded my head in agreement and stood to give her a grateful embrace. Soon, I realized how much time had passed since we met in line, and I began to pick up my things to get to school on time. "Hey! Are we still on for Friday night?"

It took me a moment to realize what she was talking about. "Oh, yeah, definitely. You know I wouldn't miss it for the world."

As we walked towards the front door, Eleazar, the hot manager of the Bakery held it open for us. Carmen openly checked him out with a big smile on her face, winking at him as she swayed her hips flirtatiously. I noticed him lick his lips and wink back at her, and I blushed at their blatant coquetry. It had been so long since Jacob had looked at me like that, that I felt a small twinge of jealousy.

Before we kissed goodbye, Carmen asked, "Oh, and did you bring...?"

I cut her off, knowing well what she was asking for. "Yeah, I got them. Don't worry. Everything will go well on Friday night."

Carmen threw her head back in light laughter at my comment. "Shouldn't I be telling _you _that?"

"Well, start practicing because you just might."

* * *

_"¿Que estas haciendo aqui sola, mi vida?" - "What are you doing here by yourself, my love?"_

_"Ven, ayudame a sentarme contigo." - "Come, help me so that I can sit with you."_

_"¿Por que cargas tanta tristeza en esos ojos, querida?" - "Why do you hold such sorrow in your eyes?"_

_"No te olvides, mi querida: Eres como el ave fénix. De tus propias cenizas te levantarás." - "Do not forget, my beloved: You are like the Phoenix. From your own ashes, you will rise."_

Please review and tell me what you think! ;0)


	5. Capítulo Cuatro 2: Exhibicion

**_Hello there, y'all! This is the second part..._**

_**Once again, **__**I would like to thank Project Team Beta, especially Lindsey21412 and LoriAnnTwiFan, for looking out! You guys are great.**_

* * *

_****__**Someone to Watch Over Me- Ella Fitzgerald**_

_**There's a saying old, says that love is blind**_  
_**Still we're often told, "seek and ye shall find"**_  
_**So I'm going to seek a certain lad I've had in mind**_

_**Looking everywhere, haven't found him yet**_  
_**He's the big affair I cannot forget**_  
_**Only man I ever think of with regret**_

_**There's a somebody I'm longin' to see**_  
_**I hope that he, turns out to be**_  
_**Someone who'll watch over me**_

* * *

The rest of the week passed with hardly any incidents. I had seen Edward about two more times after Monday morning, but we seemed to have a silent agreement to keep our distance. Other than that, I concentrated on my lessons for the week.

One thing I was happy about was the text I had received from Jacob at around 10:30 in the morning on Monday.

_**There. You have been penciled in by my "precious" secretary for December fourth. And just to prove it to you...**_

I scrolled down on the message to find a picture he had taken of his schedule book with the words, _"__BELLA'S CAREER DAY THING: BE THERE OR BE SQUARE!"_ written in red ink underneath the date and time, circled multiple times. I rolled my eyes at his text and the mention of his "precious" secretary, knowing that he was still annoyed by my comment about Leah from Friday night. I sent him back a "thank you" and continued teaching my class.

Soon it was Friday, and I'd been secretly excited about tonight, the butterflies in my stomach seeming to grow in size as the time grew nearer. I was to meet Carmen, Rosalie, and Esme at _Soliloquy_, a local art museum, which was opening a new exhibit based on the works of Maribel Antonio, and I both looked forward to and dreaded tonight's event.

After work, I went straight home and got dinner ready for Jacob. Other than possibly going to the gym tonight, Jacob didn't plan on doing anything else but stay home and work. He wouldn't be joining me, but it was something that I was used to by now. He was never one to care about art. In the beginning of our relationship, I would ask him to join me, but ten minutes of walking around an exhibit, he'd sit at a nearby bench and play with his Blackberry. This incensed me to no end, but I stopped asking him to join me altogether after a couple of arguments.

I showered and dressed quickly, having chosen to wear my cream-colored cashmere sweater with black skinny jeans and low-cut boots. I wore some dark eye shadow and liner around my eyes to pull off that smoky look and applied some light gloss upon my lips. After threading my hair in a French braid, I put on my beanie and black coat, hung my brown leather back pack over my shoulder and headed out into the night.

The twenty minute drive to downtown Seattle was nearly quiet with only the dulcet tones of Jane Monheit to keep me company and my body began to buzz with excitement upon arriving at the small museum. Walking through the door, I was quickly greeted by one of the staff members of Soliloquy, who took my coat and left me with my back pack. Already, the night was underway. The low hum of observers blended with the jazzy sounds of a small band playing discreetly in the corner as attendees hovered and conversed in front of different pieces in the exhibit. I sought out Carmen who was a curator here, but I began to walk around the exhibit after a moment, not finding her -or Rosalie and Esme, for that matter.

The smell of acrylics, oils and canvas coalesced with the aroma of the white Brushstroke lilies that decorated the corners of every room. There were four main viewing areas; each was painted a different color -dark wine, navy blue, forest green and dusky grey. Each room usually exhibited the works of a different artist, but Antonio's paintings took over two of the rooms this evening. The lighting in the museum was slightly dim with the brightest lights illuminating each piece, and the temperature inside the building was warm but comfortable compared to the cold and wet evening outside.

For most of the evening, I floated from one group of guests to another. I stayed out of their line of sight, but hovered close enough to listen in on their observations on Antonio's work. Having listened in on enough conversations, I walked over to a nearby bench that was placed by a floor-to-ceiling glass wall. I sat down, taking out my leather journal and black-rimmed reading glasses, just to write some comments of my own.

I'd been jotting down my thoughts on paper for an undeterminable amount of time when the room I sat in began to fill in with more guests, their conversations becoming distracting. With a huff, I put away my leather-bound journal and glasses and began to walk out of the navy room when a shock of dark bronze hair caught my eye. I instinctively looked up to see Edward standing in front of a large painting with his arm wrapped cozily around his wife's waist. They both nodded and seemed to be giving their opinions on the painting in front of them, and my eyes prickled with new tears as this scenario was just entirely too familiar for comfort.

_I had lost any hope by then, having looked everywhere. I blindly searched for him at his school, around the city, really not knowing his address or his family's. I hoped that someone above might have mercy on me and given __me a sign that could lead me back to him. I wanted to tell him that I was sorry, that I was stupid, that I had not realized how much more he wanted from us and that I still loved him. But __as days went by and my time had been running short, I had lost hope and stopped my futile attempts at finding him._

_I'd been moping around in my hotel room for most of the day and decided that, __on my last night in Chicago, I'd make a trip down to the Art Institute. I had always wanted to visit __and took advantage of my time __in Illinois, trying desperately to rid my mind of _him_. Arriving at the AI__, I took my time walking around the exhibition, __which displayed paintings of the New Frontier. It had been hopeless, __since I couldn't see anything. My eyes kept blurring with a new round of tears every time I thought of having thrown my future away that night after graduation. Some of the people at the exhibit noticed me, __but kept to themselves, __which I was grateful for._

_Trying to compose myself while looking at an oil painting of a Mexican _vaquero _sitting on his horse in the middle of a desert, I felt a slight shiver run down my spine. __I thought this was __odd, __since it was a hot summer night in Chicago. Looking around at the other guests that night, a head of reddish-brown hair caught my eye, __and I immediately searched for him, my heart racing a hundred miles an hour. My mind was inundated with thoughts of our reunion and the many ways I would make it up to him for the rest of my life, __if given the chance._

_Praying desperately for the man with the bronze hair to be him, my breath caught at seeing Edward for the first time in nearly five years and how beautiful he still was. He stood just twenty feet in front of me, facing the opposite wall, __as he concentrated on another painting. _This is it_, I thought, the moment that I had been waiting for and in just a few seconds__, I would pour my heart to him, begging for his forgiveness._

_But, __with the first step I took, a pretty strawberry blonde approached him, quickly embracing him with such familiarity that it began to kill me inside. He looped his arms strongly around her waist as they showed no shame __in kissing intimately in the middle of the exhibit, without a care as to who was watching. Instantly, __I noticed the thick gold band on the ring finger of his left hand and the intricately cut diamond ring on hers. The entire scene felt so personal that I had to look away for a moment. My mind felt numb as my heart suffered an excruciating pain so great, that it took being accidentally bumped into by a stranger to wake me up from my stupor. I took a step back and then another, quickly turning and running out of the Art Institute, not caring who I shoved out of my way._

I needed to get out of here. The scene before me was too reminiscent of that day, and I looked for a way to get out. Finding the nearest restroom, I quickly hid inside the handicap stall where there was a sink and mirror inside. I tried to control my breathing, needing to calm myself from the overwhelming emotions threatening to take me down. I hooked my back pack against the door and turned to the sink, opening the faucet and splashing some water on my face and neck. I looked at myself in the mirror and saw the slight reddening of my face and eyes. I hadn't realized that I had been crying. As I continued to take deep breaths to control my overwhelming emotions, I remembered that I could not leave this event tonight. Carmen would just have a conniption if I left, and I didn't want to let her down like that. I would just have to avoid them at all costs and make up an excuse for needing to leave early tonight.

The sudden pounding against the door made me jump and squeal. "Someone's in here," I shouted, trying to hide the slight tremble of my voice.

"I know, genius. I've been looking for you," Rosalie shouted right back, amused.

"I'll be out in a second, Rose," I answered, pulling some paper towels out of the dispenser and swiftly drying off my face. Thankfully, my face began to pale as my breathing slowed back to normal. I straightened out my sweater and took out my gloss, applying some on my dried lips. I tried to take as much time as I could before I faced Rose and anyone else who might notice that I'd been crying recently. Again, she pounded on my door, and I huffed at her impatience.

"Did you fall in or something?"

"Ha, ha. Very funny, Rose," I retorted as I grabbed my bag from its hook and tossed it over my shoulder. I opened the door to my stall and kept my face down.

"Stop," Rosalie ordered as she stood in my way.

I looked up to see her in all her beauty, her long blonde locks pulled up into a pony tail. Her arms were crossed in front of her as she put all her weight on one leg, tapping her other foot against the linoleum. She searched my face for a moment, while I shifted uncomfortably underneath her gaze. Rosalie walked up to me and threw her arms around my shoulders, pulling me into a tight hug.

"Are you nervous?" she asked. Not wanting to go into the real reason I was in here, I nodded my head and used that as an excuse for hiding.

Finally, we stepped out of the women's restroom, and I was grateful for Rosalie as she kept up the majority of the conversation while I just nodded in acquiescence. My mind was distracted as I kept a wary look out, hoping to avoid running into him. Not that it mattered anyway since this entire week we both refused to acknowledge each other, and I wasn't about to start now. Walking into the navy blue room -one of the two areas with Antonio's work- we quickly found Carmen and Esme and made small talk. I looked at my watch and was glad to see the night would soon be over.

The four of us walked through the exhibit, stopping at each painting and discussing our own observations. Antonio's new exhibit, _Instrumentales,_was different from her older projects and gathering from what I'd been hearing this evening, many approved of her lighter, albeit erotic work. We stopped in front of two tall oil paintings that were situated side by side.

The first one, _La Violonchelista_, showed a slender, dark-haired woman sitting on a small stool with a cello placed strategically between her legs, hiding most of her nudity as she played the strings of her instrument. With the black background and the minimal lighting in the painting, the shadows danced across her body, hiding her face and leaving only enough to show the silhouette of her soft curves and the cello in front of her.

The other piece, _Amante del Violonchelo_, showed the same woman with her hair pulled up in a bun. This time, her arms were wrapped around a blond man's neck as she straddled his lap, her back to the viewer. His left hand held her neck while he played the bow against the skin of her back with his right, as if she were the cello. Again, the shadows hid their faces in this black and white painting, as their naked bodies held on to each other very intimately.

"Wow, that's beautiful," Rosalie began as all four of us looked up reverently at the two pieces.

"I know, it's amazing, isn't it?" added Carmen, winking at me and turning back to the painting of the female cellist. "I love how she holds the cello so close against her, as if it were her lover and she was protecting it. It's as if they've had this real relationship for years. You can see the trust and dependence they have with one another. See the way her fingers hold the strings while the bow soothes their trembling, like she's comforting the cello? And it stands so close to the most intimate parts of her body, connecting with her in ways nothing and no one else can. It's only her and her lover as she releases the passion it provokes from her through the sweetest music strings can play."

"Would you like us to leave the two of you alone?" I asked. The four of us giggled quietly, trying not to take attention away from the exhibit.

"Hah, you have no idea what this painting does to me. I'm in serious need of a good lay, and my _conejito _just doesn't do it for me anymore," Carmen said, solemnly. I held myself from rolling my eyes in front of Carmen and turned my attention to the other piece.

"Now, that one right there is hot," Rosalie whispered. "That must've been very enjoyable."

"It was at first but his legs eventually started to cramp, and my butt was getting numb," Esme answered, probably not realizing she'd responded out loud.

"Esme? That's you?" Rosalie squeaked incredulously. Esme gaped at her as if she'd been accused of a crime but soon relented and nodded her head. "Wow, Esme. I didn't know you had it in you, you wild woman!" Rosalie turned back to the painting, her eyes tracing the curves of their bodies. "And I'm guessing that's Carlisle."

Esme shrugged, "Yeah, but don't say anything. It was something I've always wanted to do, and Carlisle indulged me for our eighteenth anniversary. He was great about it, but I think he would feel strange if word got out that he posed nude for a painting, even if it was with me. So, let's just keep this between us."

"What is it that we're keeping between us?"

An unintentional shiver climbed up my spine at the sound of a low, velvety voice that came from my left. Its husky tenor caught me by surprise, nearly making my knees buckle under its intensity. I felt warm all of a sudden -warmer than the room was intended to be- at the electricity that rolled off of him and turned my nerves on like a light switch, every hair on my body rising with its attraction. My body yearned to gravitate towards him, and it took everything in me to stay still. As if his voice had subliminally commanded it to, my head slowly turned to see him stand a bit too close for practical strangers to be; somehow in the back of my mind it registered that maybe he intended to be this close. Not being able to help it, my eyes followed up the round strength of his shoulder, ascending his lean neck, watching his Adam's apple drag slowly up and down sensually. Licking my lips without realizing I was, my eyes devoured the slight stubble shading the fair skin of his angular jaw which begged to be licked by my tongue in this very moment. My eyes finally reached his and noticed his too-long stare upon my moistened lips before connecting with mine like an intimate embrace for what seemed like an eternity when it was a mere second or two. It was short enough for no one else to notice but long enough for me to notice that he was alone.

"Oh, Edward, it's so good to see you here," Esme exclaimed as she moved like a blur from my right towards Edward and hugged him, the slight wind of her movement waking me from my stupor. I turned away from them to give them and myself space when Esme felt me stir and gently grabbed my arm to stop me.

"Oh, Bella. You remember Edward Masen, right?" she asked proudly. Remember him? I had been battling with both my fickle heart and wanton body to forget him. I forced the best smile I could conjure up as I faced him fully, and the sight before me was both astonishing and agonizing. He stood there wearing faded blue jeans that clung to the lean muscles of his legs and a forest green cable knit sweater that hugged his bold shoulders and strong biceps, the color bringing out the intensity of his emerald eyes. The reddish hues of his usually mussed up brown hair shone underneath the dim lighting of the museum, and my fingers tingled with the need to run them through his locks. But the part that had me aroused in an instant was the black rimmed glasses that sat perched atop the crook of his long nose.

Back in high school he wore contacts. Even though he wasn't particularly ashamed of wearing glasses, he only wore them at home or when he was around me. I had almost forgotten about them, but I remembered now how sexy I thought he'd always looked with his spectacles on. There was just something about a man who wore glasses that made me turn into a puddle of goo, and Edward was putting to shame all those male models that were featured on the eye wear commercials.

"Yes, Mr. Masen. It's good to see you again." I hadn't intended to, but my hand rose of its own accord to shake his hand. I thought I saw a bit of hesitation when he took my hand in his, and the sparks between us felt exquisite on my skin. I didn't know if he felt it, but my body reveled in the sensations he caused within me with just a mere touch of his hand. I let go of his warm hand fast enough to avoid a riot of arousal inside me and looked around the room as I pretended to search for someone in the crowd. I noticed the number of people in the exhibit began to dwindle at the late hour of the night, and I was biding my time for escape.

"It's good to see you as well, Mrs. Black," he began, and my heart beat faster at the sound of his voice. His tone was polite, as was his smile, but he seemed to be guarded, as his shoulders wouldn't budge from their rigidity. "How are you enjoying yourself this evening?"

"I'm, uh, I'm good," I stuttered, not really knowing what else to say, and the awkward pause that followed had us both squirming uncomfortably. Thankfully, Esme was there to fill the void in our conversation.

"Where's Tanya, dear?"

"Um, she'll be right back. She had to step away for a minute to make a quick phone call," answered Edward, turning his full attention to Esme. "But, she's having a great time tonight. Thanks for inviting us."

I held myself from rolling my eyes in front of them, already bored with the polite conversation, and there really was no point to me being here since the night seemed to be coming to an end anyway. I began to inch away, hoping that I could go unnoticed, when I accidentally bumped into someone.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," I excused myself as I looked up to see Tanya standing in front of me, her hands holding on to my upper arms to keep me steady. I waited for the scowl to appear on her beautiful face as she seemed cold and haughty the last time we saw each other. I looked up to see her expression was blank, void of any emotion, and it unnerved me in that small moment. Before I could say anything, she shook her head out of whatever stupor she'd been in and looked down to me. At 5'4" tall, I had to look up to her 5'10" height, which added to her supermodel looks. Our eyes connected and she smiled warmly at me. If I hadn't been surprised before, I sure was now, as I had not been expecting that. Loosening her grip on my arms, Tanya stepped back and searched my face.

"No, please don't apologize. I was rushing to get back in here because I'd gotten distracted with the paintings by Maribel Antonio in the other room and completely forgot where I was. I didn't want Anthony to worry about me. So, I'm the one who should apologize."

Her demeanor was friendly and warm, so unlike the night of the masquerade ball, and I found myself smiling back at her. I mumbled a low, "It's okay", and nodded my head, but one thing had popped into my head as her words registered- _Who's Anthony?_

I looked back up to see her walk past me with a whispered, "excuse me", and approach Edward, standing by his side as he continued to speak with Esme. His arm wound automatically around her small waist as her left arm pulled her closer into his side. They both moved together in synchronization; they threw back their heads in laughter in time with each other and seemed to flow back and forth flawlessly like the motion of ocean waves. Again, my emotions were wreaking havoc on my heart and mind as memories from my one trip to Chicago came back in full force.

I was happy for him because this was exactly what I wanted for him. He was obviously a great attorney for Carlisle to consider him for partnership and had a beautiful wife at his side, who I'm sure was amazing at every little thing she did. This is what I wanted for him, to have the best in life. Not to end up with me.

But, I was jealous. I watched the way Edward held Tanya and how he looked at her with such adoration. How long had it been since I had that with Jacob? Sure, we seemed like a good couple to everyone else, but it was little things that should tie everything together that were missing. I didn't expect to be a part of a perfect marriage because there is no such thing, but every day I felt my relationship with Jacob loosen its bindings like a withered rope that had been holding too much pressure. I was jealous that he wasn't here with me as support when, every time there's an event for him, I'm there front and center. I wondered if Edward and Tanya were as affectionate behind closed doors -if they held each other that way and sat in front of the couch just flipping through the channels just to be in each other's company. I wondered if he stood by her side to help her while she prepared dinner for the two of them. I wondered if she was encouraging and supportive in his pursuit to be a partner at the firm. I wondered if they held hands while they made love, as he used to with me, if they planned to have any children. I wondered...

"Bellaaaaa," Carmen drawled as she stood to my right, tugging on my hand to get my attention. I turned my eyes to her as I tried to bring myself back to the present and felt the weight of five pairs of eyes observing me with concern. "Are you okay? Where were you just now?"

"Uh, I um, I'm just a bit tired. It's been a bit of a hectic day," I answered, waving my hand to brush away their concern. I worked my hardest to not look at the happy couple across from me. It wasn't for me to worry about what they did or didn't do, and I needed to separate myself from those errant thoughts. For the next few minutes, I had been doing well with ignoring them as they spoke with Esme while I bantered back and forth with Rose and Carmen. We were getting together for Thanksgiving over at my place, and they had been inquiring about what they should bring for that day when Esme began to speak to our group.

"Oh, how rude of me. I haven't introduced you to each other. Girls, this is Edward and Tanya Masen. The Masens and the Cullens have been friends for a very long time, and now Edward has come back to Washington and has put in his bid for partner at the law firm." Rosalie and Carmen shook hands with Tanya and Edward as they murmured their "nice to meet you's".

"Edward, Tanya, this is Dr. Rosalie Hale-McCarty. She is a gynecologist at the University's Medical Center. Her husband, Emmett McCarty, is a professor of Medicine at UDub as well. And this is Carmen Moreno. She's the curator here..."

"And registrar, and collections manager..." Carmen interrupted with a sigh. "I'm telling you, a girl's job is never done."

We all laughed politely once the introductions were done.

"Oh, Bella, where's Jacob?" I stiffened at her question as I heard Rose huff on my left and Carmen cluck her tongue to my right, both rolling their eyes I'm sure.

"Um, he's home getting some work done," I answered quickly.

"He's home? You would think he would be here to support..."

"He's just never been one to enjoy this kind of thing," I interrupted. "I didn't want to bother him with bringing him here."

I made the mistake of looking at Edward as he stood there with a blank expression on his face, and I mentally kicked myself for stupidly wondering what he was thinking.

"Well, that's too bad," Tanya began. "Anthony isn't normally into this kind of stuff either, but we hadn't been out on a date since we left Chicago, and he made time to come with me." Tanya caressed his chest as she pressed a small kiss to his right cheek, quickly rubbing off the stain left behind by her lipstick with the pad of her thumb. His cheeks burned red with embarrassment as Esme, Rose, and Carmen gushed over their affection. I held myself from rolling my eyes at them and sticking my pointer finger down my throat, pretending to gag. Yes, as childish as that sounded, that is what I wanted to do in order to shake off the discomfort I felt at seeing them together.

"But, I'm sure he's happy to know you're safe and sound, Bella," Tanya resumed. Confused, I tilted my head sideways, waiting for her to continue. "The fact that Anthony saved you last Friday from being killed by that maniac behind the wheel... well, I know I'm proud of him. I'm sure Jacob is very grateful."

All at the same time, Esme, Rosalie, and Carmen turned their heads to glare at me as they gasped at the news and began questioning the incident.

"What is she talking about, Bella?"

"You were almost killed in an accident and didn't tell anyone?"

"Why didn't Jacob say anything?"

"And who the hell is Anthony?"

My face warmed with embarrassment and anger at having this particular piece of information thrown out there so nonchalantly. I looked at Edward again, this time trying to convey how fucking pissed I was at him for saying anything about it to her. Granted, I didn't necessarily tell him not to, but once last Friday had gone and passed, I had tried to put it all out of my memory, and I thought he had done the same thing, too.

He, in turn, looked back at me with the same ferocity, and it seemed as if we were challenging each other. For the life of me, I couldn't think of a reason for him to be so upset.

The questions and squealing, mostly from Carmen, as she could be a bit over dramatic sometimes, continued until I raised my hands up to stop them. Thankfully, they did, but it didn't diminish the ardor of their glares upon me.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I guess I wasn't supposed to say anything," Tanya apologized, and she seemed quite repentant.

I shook my head to dispel her unnecessary guilt. For the second time tonight, I mumbled, "It's okay."

"Look," Edward said before I could begin. "Some idiot cab driver, who wasn't paying any attention, turned into the street she was crossing and almost ran her over. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time to pull her out of the way. That's it." Edward shrugged his shoulders as if it weren't a big deal, but he looked at me with his eyes begging me to go with the story.

So, Edward hadn't been completely honest with his wife about the almost-accident. He didn't tell her that he'd run into me at the bakery, that he ran after me in the street and that we had a mild argument in front of people afterward. Why did he even tell her anyway since he had made it perfectly clear that day that I was just "anybody?"

"Yep," I quipped. "That's pretty much about it, you guys. So, let it go."

I had hoped that they would just drop the subject, but I should have known it would not be that easy as my three friends stared me down, waiting for me to say something more.

"How come Jacob didn't say anything, Bella?" asked Rosalie, with her arms crossed in front of her as if she were trying to hold herself back from hitting someone. Rosalie and Jacob hated each other with a passion, and I was sure she wanted to add this to her "Reasons why I hate Fido" list.

"Jacob didn't say anything to anyone because he doesn't know," I said. Again, I raised my hands up to stop them from jumping down my throat as all three of them demanded to know why I had kept this to myself. "I didn't say anything to him because I didn't want him to worry about something that didn't happen. I was fine. I assume _you _were fine, right?" I looked at Edward as he nodded in agreement and continued. "See? No harm done. I'm grateful that he did. I don't know where I would be right now without him... had he not pulled me away at that very moment." I felt my face blush warmly, my throat constrict at the severity of those last words and looked down, suddenly very interested in my shoes because I didn't dare to look at him. Still, I hoped to convey my gratitude for his rescue, however cheapened it might've been. "But it's done. So, can we please just drop it?"

"You need to tell Jacob," Esme said, and her motherly tone meant that she was very serious. Either I would tell my husband, or she would make sure to let him know, and I preferred for it not to be blown out of proportion. I reluctantly nodded my head, feeling as if I were being scolded by my mother, and I was grateful for Carmen's next question as it broke the tension in the air.

"Again, who in the hell is Anthony?"

"Um, it's my middle name," answered Edward while Tanya's attention was diverted back to the painting of the cello player.

"Yeah, I thought his name was a bit old fashioned, and it actually made me think of his father instead," answered Tanya while still looking at the piece on the wall. While she studied the painting and the others carried on their own quiet conversation, I looked at Edward, willing him to return his gaze to me. When our eyes met, I raised my eyebrows at him and jokingly mimicked, "Old-fashioned?" with no one the wiser.

He really looked like he was fighting it when he saw me, but a beautifully crooked smile graced his fine features, melting my heart, and I return it before we both turned our heads away.

"This is a very passionate exhibit," Tanya continued. "The paintings belong to Maribel Antonio. Is that correct?"

"Yes," answered Carmen. "The paintings in both the green room and the blue room are hers."

"And is she here? I would love to meet her."

"No, unfortunately she isn't here," Carmen said. "She's a bit shy, especially when it comes to exhibiting her artwork. She feels vulnerable- as if every painting were a window into her soul. She likes to stay private."

"Really?" asked Edward, his face showing confusion as his eyes looked around at the different pieces around the blue room.

"Well, these are a part of her new exhibit," Carmen continued. "One of her biggest passions is music, and she wanted to convey the love between instruments and their players, their strong relationships. Come, follow me. I'll show you a self-portrait she did for this exhibit."

"Um," I whispered nervously, but the rest of our group moved quickly towards the north end of the blue room and my legs followed of their own accord.

We stood in front of a mostly black and white painting of a dark-haired woman sitting on a piano bench. Her hair was down but tucked over her left shoulder, the alabaster skin of her naked back displayed the ink that marked it from her right shoulder all the way down to her right thigh. The intricate tattoo that graced the right side of her back, stretched from her spine to her right breast and down her torso and was the only part of the image that was painted in different colors, mostly shades of red. She hid her face, her back to the observers as she sat in front of the ebony piano, her fingers gently placed atop the ivory keys. A couple of music sheets were perched in front of her as she read the music notes to an old lullaby.

I couldn't breathe, my heart was running at a million miles an hour, every nerve ending trembled with dread and embarrassment, and I felt weak underneath the pressure of having _him_ see this particular painting. I completely forgot about this piece and what it represented and now he was here, staring at it like the rest of us. I prayed that he wouldn't see through the painting, that he would take it in as just another pretty picture and move on.

But I learned that I wasn't so lucky when I saw him move a little closer to the artwork in front of him. While the other four ladies stood a few feet back, admiring and speaking about the woman in the painting, his eyes traveled along the curves of her body and the image of her tattoo with a concentrated look on his face. Even though he wasn't looking at me, I felt naked and vulnerable with how intensely he searched through the painting. When his eyes landed on the sheet music in front of the woman, I noticed the fingers of his left hand moving, as if he were trying to play the song in his head. His eyes widened as he recognized the melody on the music sheets, realizing what song those notes represented and immediately looked right at me with a look of incredulity, outrage and something else I couldn't figure out. His fingers stopped their mimicking as his hand closed into a fist, his shoulders were rigid and his jaw clenched and unclenched so forcefully, I thought he might break his teeth. I looked away immediately, not able to look at him anymore as my tears threatened to spill over. I raised my hand to my face and felt it hot with the emotions that were raging inside of me.

"I wasn't kidding when I said she was shy," Carmen joked, as she continued to speak with Tanya. "Even in this self-portrait she managed to hide her face. She's been known to do that with some of her older work as well."

"Then, how do you know it's her?" asked Tanya, apparently oblivious to her husband's anger.

"Oh, she's a friend of mine, and I've seen the ink on her back. It's very beautiful. She drew it herself."

"Yeah, it definitely is," Tanya continued. "But what is it? I can't tell."

"It's a phoenix," Edward answered immediately, loud enough for everyone to hear. I didn't dare look at him again.

"Oh yeah, I guess I can see that now," Tanya concluded.

I was glad that everyone seemed too engrossed with the piece to notice one traitorous tear fall out, which I quickly brushed away. I had to leave. I couldn't take this anymore.

"Bella, are you okay?" asked Rosalie in a low voice. Esme turned her sights on me as well, and grew concerned.

"I'm not feeling well," my voice shook as I answered, my body swaying from side to side as I began to feel faint. Esme placed the back of her hand against my forehead and flinched immediately.

"Sweetheart, you're burning up. Come on, I'm taking you home, and I'm not taking no for an answer," Esme commanded. I nodded in acquiescence, suddenly feeling too exhausted to argue with her.

"She's probably been like that all night. I found her in the bathroom earlier," Rosalie whispered to Esme.

I glanced over at Carmen as she continued to speak with Tanya, worry etched in her face as she stared back at me along with Tanya and him. His stubborn posture lessened a bit but he still looked furious.

"I'll leave now, too," Rosalie continued. "I'll get Emmett over here so we can bring your car back home. Then, I'll check on you, okay, sweetie?" I nodded and handed my car key over to Rosalie as Esme hooked her arm with mine and led me out of the blue room.

"Feel better, _querida_," Carmen said after she excused herself away from the Masens and handed over our coats.

The rest of the night went just as planned. Esme drove me home to a sleeping Jacob. She woke him and explained that I was a bit under the weather. She left when Rosalie came home with Emmett, and she checked in on me as promised. It seemed like Rosalie was really trying to hold herself from lashing out at Jacob, for which I was grateful for, and quickly left with a promise that I'd call her the next day. I was thankful for my friends because of all the love and concern they poured out for me, especially tonight.

Jake placed me in our bed, and I felt him removing my clothes to get me comfortable for the night. The last thing I remembered was the heavy expression of Edward's face when he saw the painting, and I threw up a quick prayer that he wouldn't see the older pieces that were on display tonight as well.

* * *

_**See why I had to break it into two parts? There is a lot going on. What do you guys think? Will Jacob keep his promise to Bella? What do you think about her trip to Chicago? And what about Edward's reaction to the painting?**_

_**Let me know what you think will happen now!**_

_**Check out my profile to look at the painting of the Mexican Vaquero Bella was talking about as well as other stuff.**_

_**I want to say thank you to everyone who has reviewed, alerted, and favorited Anhelo Amarte. You guys are amazing!**_

_**Leave me some love, y'all!**_

* * *

_**Just in case you were wondering...**_

_**Translations:**_

_**Vaquero - Cowboy**_

_**Instrumentales- Instrumentals**_

_**La Violenchelista - The Cellist**_

_**Amante del Violenchelo - Lover of Cello**_


	6. Capitulo Cinco: Confrontacion :Revised:

**_I'm so very sorry that this has taken so long. RL is kicking my butt left and right and unfortunately, it doesn't seem to be slowing down. I made this a long chapter in the hopes that you will excuse me. But you guys have been nothing short of encouraging and amazing with your kind words and for that I thank you._**

**_Oh, and by the way...some of you were asking what Maribel Antonio's older work looks like. One of the paintings is mentioned in the first chapter. Just sayin'..._**

**_I want to definitely thank LoriAnnTwiFan and lindsey21412 from Project Team Beta for being so awesome, so fast with their work, so humbling with their corrections, and so encouraging with their comments. I'm so excited to have you girls betaing and I will try to be better with the commas. So thank you, thank you, thank you._**

**_As always, Twilight's not mine nor are its characters. I just get to play with them in my imaginary Barbie dream home._**

* * *

I was so fucking confused.

Was that _her_ painting? Was _she_ Maribel Antonio? What was my composition doing in that painting? Why would she paint that in her work?

Why?

_Why, Bella? Why?_

I stood entranced before the detailed painting that displayed the nude, slender back of a beautiful woman with long dark locks tucked down the front of her left shoulder. My eyes roamed along the softness of her skin and studied the curves and colors of the inked Phoenix upon her back that looked familiar. My heart began to race, my breath became shallow and a certain nether organ began to stir at the sight of her tattoo just reaching the underside of her full right breast, swirling down her ribs towards her svelte thigh. I shifted from one foot to another in the hopes of hiding the discomfort in my jeans and kept looking over the life-like painting, putting myself through the torture of being so close to her, yet so far.

My eyes once again focused on the composition displayed within her painting. My ten fingers moved of their own accord as I read the familiar but long forgotten notes, pretending to play for her. The melody was cutting my heart with nostalgia; the memories of our relationship were beginning to infiltrate my well-kept façade. I closed my hands into hard fists, fighting the need to play it over and over in my mind.

That's the lullaby I had composed for her the Christmas before she ripped my heart out, and after the way she had left things so abruptly, I thought that she would've shoved that to the side along with everything else. After all these years, why would she include that in her painting? How many others canvasses had she painted to show the same?

And that Phoenix tattoo? Was that really displayed across the smooth expanse of her back? It took everything inside of me to not reach up to the painting and trace her curves and the ink on her back in front of everyone, including my wife. But knowing for certain that it would only make me seem like some kind of pervert, I stiffly stepped away from the painting. My body and mind were warring against each other at the breathtaking display in front of me. I wanted to demand that she tell me why she thought she could paint my composition in her work and how she could have the nerve to think she had any right to do that.

I also wanted to take her away to a secret place and undress her slowly, to study the ink on her back with my eyes, hands and lips. I closed my eyes for only a moment, wondering if the electricity that was always present when we touched would grow more intensely if I caressed her tattoo. I imagined it would be like touching a static electricity ball; just the mere touch of my fingers upon her marking would spark heated sensations beneath her skin, coaxing a sprinkle of goose bumps to cover her all over, her back to arch and her breathing to speed. The thought alone made a shiver run down my spine, and I opened my eyes, startled, hoping that no one had noticed my reaction to this painting. How was that possible? I know they say a picture is worth a thousand words, but this painting was bringing out a thousand different emotions. I couldn't restrain my anger as it raised another notch because of this piece. Because of _her_.

I glared at her from across the room as she stood on the other side of our small group, looking down to the ground as if concentrating really hard on not moving her gaze. Her arms were wrapped protectively across her mid-section with her shoulders hunched over, her body trembling slightly. If I hadn't been paying such close attention to her, I would've missed how her hand quickly wiped something off of her face as she looked in the other direction.

It seemed that her friend, Rosalie, noticed the action as well. She quickly hovered over Bella, asking if she was all right, followed by Esme. All the rage and hurt that was almost suffocating me were momentarily shoved to the side as I grew concerned for her well being. Was she all right? Was she in pain?

I tried to listen in on their conversation even as Carmen and Tanya, who stood close to me, spoke too loudly for me to hear. The only things I could make out were"burning up" and "taking you home."

Something tugged at my heart at the thought of her being in pain, and I wanted to be the one to comfort her, to lessen the ache and sickness from her body. But, I grew frustrated because that wasn't possible. I couldn't just walk up to her and ask if there was anything I could do to help her. Sure, I could just ask if she was okay. Any stranger could do that. Tanya and the rest of them wouldn't suspect a thing about my feelings for Bella with just a simple question.

I had been together with Tanya for about six years and never during that time, especially since moving here to Washington, had I ever mentioned my previous relationship with Bella. It was a part of my life I did not want to revisit in order to avoid opening up old wounds. If I were a better husband, I would've told her the very night of the masquerade ball when I'd seen Bella for the first time in over ten years. As a matter of fact, I would've been honest with her and introduced her as my ex-girlfriend from high school. I would've trusted her enough to introduce Bella as the reason why there were times when Tanya would find me a bit too silent and distant. There were plenty of times before coming to Seattle that Tanya would find me in thoughtful hazes as I would revisit the times I had been with Bella, trying to find the moment that triggered our break-up. But when she asked, I would just lie to her with some lame excuse about school or work. I think she sensed my transgression against her, but she never pushed me, possibly thinking that I would one day open up.

If I were a better husband...no, a good husband, I would've let her in. But I wasn't.

I was even more aggravated because I didn't _want_ to care about Bella. I didn't want this power she had over me, this dominion she had over my thoughts, emotions and body, no matter how many miles there were between us. No matter how much I worked to repress everything about Bella, the moment I saw her, it all came back, hitting me like a wrecking ball, crippling my conviction to be truthful and loving toward Tanya and turning it into dust.

I wanted to be callous and unfeeling toward Bella, as she'd been throughout all these years, like she had been that last night we were together. I wanted to hold Tanya in my arms, to feel the warmth of her body against mine and not have the memory of a younger Bella undulating and writhing under me as we made love, our hands grasping. I wanted to fully engage in a good conversation with my wife without triggering some memory of Bella. I wanted to never compare one with the other because I felt that, as long as Bella was a part of me, Tanya would always be second best . She never deserved that. Never.

But I was starting to think that that kind of separation from my past would be impossible.

I needed to speak with Bella, but I found myself not knowing what to say or how to even begin. How would I tell her that she was the reason why I had never been truly happy with my wife? That she was the reason I failed as a husband? That she was the Babel-sized wall that stood between Bella's Edward and Tanya's husband and that I had been struggling for years to climb over to my wife?

"If you'll excuse me, I need to get their coats before they leave," said Carmen, bringing me back from my inner musings. I saw that Esme was holding onto Bella as they moved toward the end of the blue room, and Carmen disappeared along with Rosalie to retrieve their coats.

I looked to my left and nearly flinched at the intense glare Tanya was giving me. It was something that unnerved me whenever she did it; it made me squirm and almost cower as if I'd been caught red-handed. Her perfectly-waxed eyebrows were pulled together furiously, indenting a deep crinkle between them. Her crystal blue eyes icily glowered at me as if she could burn a hole right through me. She stood as stiff as a board with unyielding tension and the only indicator that she wasn't a life-like statue was her heaving chest as it rose and fell with her heavy breathing. It wasn't something that happened very often, but when it did, I paid attention.

"Are you okay?" I asked her as I worked to not fidget under her unwavering glare. I shivered, and I noticed the temperature in the room drop as the amount of body heat depleted; the other visitors started heading home, indicating that the night at the museum was coming to a close. I looked around the room, suddenly feeling as if there were another presence with us at the moment but found no one but the two of us. I walked towards Tanya, cupping her face with my hand and tilting her head up to look into her eyes.

She stared at me intensely for a beat too long before she shook her head, as if she were in a heavy trance. Tanya smiled at me, though it didn't reach her eyes as she stepped away, suddenly walking toward the self-portrait of Maribel Antonio - of Bella - facing away from me.

"Of course I'm okay, Anthony," Tanya answered sweetly. I internally berated myself for my foolish, wandering thoughts and walked up behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist. I made sure to keep my eyes away from the painting as she continued to speak. "So, I take it you like this one a lot."

I stiffened in surprise at her comment before tightening my hold around her, placing soft kisses along the soft skin of shoulder.

"What makes you say that?" I asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as I could, fighting with my eyes to keep them from looking up at the painting in front of us.

"Well, you just couldn't keep your eyes off of it."

"Yeah, it's a beautiful piece. It's very detailed, very life-like. Almost as if she had taken a picture of herself. It's very attractive."

And it was. There was no denying that this painting grabbed the viewer's attention and held it in a vise-like grip. I gave in to my desire to look at it and moved away from my wife the instant my eyes fell upon what I knew without a doubt to be Bella, hoping that she hadn't noticed my reaction to the painting hardening further against her backside. Again, I looked away from the titillating image before me and turned to see Tanya, still watching it closely.

"I see what you mean," Tanya said, her voice low and husky as she appraised the woman's back. "She has beautiful curves; her skin looks so soft I almost want to touch it to see if it's real. It's a very sensual painting. It coaxes feelings in me that I can't even describe, Anthony." She slowly turned away from the artwork to stand in front of me, wrapping her arms around my waist and leaning her head towards my neck. The warmth of her breath against my skin made me shiver, and my arms wrapped around her as she whispered, "But I can show you."

Her lips pressed gently against the column of my neck, lightly sucking on my Adam's apple and nibbling her way up to my jaw. As she did this, her hand slowly traveled down my side, moving towards the front of my jeans, not wasting any time in grasping and massaging me through the thick material. Already stirred by the painting of Bella's back, my dick became harder at Tanya's ministrations, and I looked around the room to make sure that we were both still alone. I couldn't restrain myself any longer and cupped Tanya's face within my hands as I shoved my tongue into the warm cavern of her mouth, almost violently, causing her to moan. Our lips moved desperately against the other, sucking and biting as my right hand moved around to grasp her waist, pulling her against me and feeling every inch of her slender body moving with me.

With all of the pent-up anger and tension from Bella's painting, the possible meaning of it and the need I had for her, I let Tanya do with me as she pleased. I hoped that here, in the middle of this art exhibit -which I was almost one-hundred percent sure belonged to Bella- I could prove to _her_ and myself once and for all, that I could push through these constantly errant thoughts and emotions she provoked. It was as if she were present right now, a witness to what Tanya and I were doing in the hopes that she would see that I didn't need her and she would finally leave me the hell alone.

Tanya nudged me, and we began moving towards the wall opposite Maribel Antonio's self-portrait until my back reached it. As we continued to assault each other with strokes and kisses, my traitorous eyes looked up and stared, mesmerized, at the painting of Bella. They roamed over to see how her messy, long dark hair lay gently over her shoulder and how her soft skin gleamed as she reached for the pages of the lullaby. The underside of her ample breast hinted teasingly beneath her arm, and the curves of her body that separated her from the girl I once knew to the exquisite woman in the painting caused me to moan out loud.

I closed my eyes against the image across from me and quickly turned us around, pressing her against the wall as I cupped her bottom in my hands while she instinctively wrapped her long legs around my waist. I ground myself against her heated center, my rock hard erection rejoicing with the pressure between our bodies, but something was off. Behind my eyelids, chocolate pools grabbed at me and pulled my attention away from crystal blue. My hands ached to touch soft, womanly curves instead of the thin and willowy body they currently roamed. The scent around me was not the sweet strawberry that my lungs yearned to breathe in, but the overwhelmingly strong one of an expensive perfume that stung my nose. The voice that whimpered "Anthony" warmly into my ear as I moved tightly against her was the clear, soprano I hear every day instead of the low, raspy voice of my past crying out "Edward."

I opened my eyes to see Tanya's closed in pleasure as we continued to grope and grind into each other, and I fought against the feelings of guilt and betrayal by pushing myself more passionately into our session. I worked to immerse myself into my wife, starting by slowly unbuttoning the front of her shirt, sucking and licking my way down from her slender neck as I pulled down the lace covering her left breast. The warmth of my mouth closed around her peak, and she cried out at the sensations. My body yearned for more of hers, and I saw a hint of hope that maybe, if I concentrated hard enough on Tanya, I could stop longing for Bella. I kept my eyes trained on the different expressions that crossed her face as we kept making out like a couple of teenagers. As long as I didn't close my eyes, if I could avoid being inundated with images of _her_, we would be all right.

Right?

"Why swim against the current, Edward?" asked a small part of me- small, but getting stronger every day.

A deliberate cough interrupted us, and we both whipped our heads around in search of the sound as we tried to catch our breath. There stood Carmen, her arms crossed in front of her as her foot tapped against the ceramic tile beneath; her eyebrows were raised incredulously and one side of her lips lifted with hidden amusement.

"It is a very passionate exhibit," Carmen said. "I give you that. But, with all due respect, I'm sure you can find yourselves a hotel about two blocks down."

"Sorry," Tanya giggled as I placed her on her feet, quickly straightening her clothes. I pulled my sweater down over the front of my pants, hoping to hide the uncomfortable stiffness from wandering eyes. It was a futile attempt as Carmen quickly looked down, chuckled to herself and began to move towards the entrance of the blue room.

"Yes, really. That was very rude of us," I said as we followed her out to the main lobby, since Soliloquy had closed for the night. "That um- artist is very good with her work." I threw in for good measure in the hopes to dispel the awkwardness of having been caught making out in the middle of an art exhibit.

"Oh yeah, Maribel's amazing," Carmen said as she entered the coat-check to pull out our jackets. "You should see her older work. Those are not erotic like the ones you saw today, but they can certainly bring out different emotions. Maribel has a real gift for that."

Her older work? It was mentioned earlier during this evening as we walked around the exhibit that Maribel Antonio had additional work in another part of the museum, but it wasn't until I saw the self-portrait and my composition in it that I had suspected it belonged to Bella. Now, my heart jumped and was racing with curiosity about what hung in the forest green room. Of its own volition, my body turned in the direction of the other room as if something were calling it to move there. I barely registered that the women were having a conversation about other exhibits, and I moved towards the room as if I were being pulled by an invisible rope. My heart began to beat faster, and my palms were sweaty with the anticipation of what I might find the minute I crossed over the threshold. What paintings did she have there? Would they carry some kind of secret to who Bella had been all these years, or was my heart, once again, futilely hoping to find something that wouldn't be there?

"Anthony," called Tanya before I could place my foot inside the room. I turned to see her standing by the entrance of the museum looking at me expectantly, already bundled up in her coat, holding my jacket on her left arm. I looked back to the green room with longing and reluctantly walked back to my wife, disappointed with being so close, yet so far once again.

I took my leather jacket from Tanya's arm and pulled it around me, lightly kissing her on the cheek. As I turned to say good-bye to Carmen, I remembered about Bella and how weak she looked as she left the museum earlier tonight. Our eyes locked as I searched for a way to ask if Bella was okay, but couldn't- not without raising suspicion over my concern. Carmen waited, as if she knew I was going to say something, but then turned her sights over my left shoulder. I knew she had been watching the time, waiting for us to finally leave. So, without further adieu, we bade her farewell as she practically pushed us out of the museum.

It was only about a twenty minute ride, but it seemed like an eternity before we would arrive at our residence. The entire way, I felt jittery as my fingers tapped incessantly against the leather of my steering wheel. Tanya sat comfortably on the passenger seat, staring out the window, humming the _Theme From A Summer Place_, once again. Trying to ignore her, as I had always found that melody a bit annoying and creepy, I let my mind wander over tonight's events.

I had seen _her _a couple of times throughout the past week, always at the Bakery. But two things kept me from going to her: one being her friend, Carmen, who seemed to be in the way every time. The other, myself. I just didn't know how to approach her, what I should ask, or worse, what I thought the outcome of our conversation would be. All I know was that my heart screamed to open up to her and purge everything I've held inside of me after all this time. My body yearned to touch her, a drugging need to draw as close to her skin as possible unlike anything I've felt in over a decade. All the while, my brain warned me to tread carefully when it came to her. Whether she knew it or not, she was dangerous to me, detrimental to the relationship I had with Tanya, and that was one thing that kept me from seeking her out. Not knowing if I would survive unscathed and fully commit myself to my wife as I had promised to do six years ago.

The best case scenario: She would hear me out, apologize for causing me so much grief throughout the years, for being a stumbling block to my marriage and say the magic words that would make all this stress go away.

_Highly un-fucking-likely, Edward._

The worst case scenario: Well, I was too scared to even think what that might be.

But, it had to be done, and I swore to myself that I wouldn't let the year end without some promise for Tanya and me.

_Again, highly un-fucking-likely, Edward._

* * *

"So, I'm walking through Soliloquy, turning off all the lights, making sure the place was clean," Carmen spoke as she sat across from me at our usual table, her coffee long forgotten. As per usual, we found ourselves back at the _Little Bakery that Could_, splitting a massive carrot nut muffin as she animatedly moved her hands around to tell her story. "When I walk into the blue room and all I hear is whimpering and moaning. Guess who I find making out like a couple of horny teenagers up against the wall."

Somehow, I already knew the answer to her question, but I was hoping against hope that it wouldn't be who I thought it was. Not that they shouldn't do that kind of thing. They were married, so they were well within their rights to do that, and being in public makes things much more forbidden and exciting. But, out of all places, did it have to be in the middle of _my _exhibit?

"That Masen guy? Edward- oh, no, I'm sorry, _An-tho-ny_," Carmen said mockingly, in a whiny, nasal tone meant to imitate Tanya's. "And his skinny bitch of a wife, Trisha."

"Tanya."

"Yeah, whatever. The point is that if I would've walked in there about three minutes later, I would've found them fucking in my museum. And you know who would've gotten stuck cleaning up that nasty ass mess? Me. No fucking thank you. I stopped cleaning that kind of shit up after college. _¿__Qué__ se creen ellos? ¿__Qué __eso era un hotel? Descarados_." Roughly taking the large cup of coffee in her hand and taking a sip, she winced with disgust at the cold temperature of the liquid.

After going to bed with a fever of a hundred and one on Friday night, I'd spent most of the following day sleeping in our bed as Jacob took care of me. I called Charlie to tell him that I wouldn't be able to make the trip back to Forks, but I didn't feel too bad about that since he would be driving to Seattle for Thanksgiving in a few days. Jacob also canceled his weekly Saturday Poker Night with his friends, Quil and Embry, to take care of me, and other than a few business phone calls he had received from his beloved assistant, he stood by my side.

He had almost helped me forget all about Friday night, but it wasn't until Sunday, when I felt much better, that I started to replay all that had happened. It was obvious that Edward was not necessarily pleased with seeing his composition painted into my piece, and I was pretty certain he knew exactly who the artist was with the look on his face. I honestly had never intended for him to see that, never thought in a million years that he would come across it. I, as far as I knew, was the only other person that held the sheet music for his lullaby -_My _lullaby.

It was one of my favorite paintings, and it was so close to my heart because of its meaning. In it, I sat in the nude in front of the sheet music on which he had written that beautiful melody just for me when we were young. Notes that seemed to be written by a wise composer with an old soul, finally having found the love he had been searching for through his music. Only it was a seventeen year old kid, who was the pride and joy of both his parents and the small town we lived in. Someone who had so much going for him and was well known and liked by the kids at his school.

But with me, he was just Edward. Not Edward, the straight "A" student, constantly winning awards for his outstanding achievements in different subjects. Not the baseball star who had helped land his school in the championships, beating their long time rivals. Not the Edward who had received a full scholarship to the University of Chicago, without even telling me he had applied to that school.

No, this was written by _my _Edward- the one who showed his faults and fears to me when he thought no one else could understand him. The one who held me those nights when I really missed Renee the most. The one who stood up against those who wanted to bring me down, especially myself. He was the one who showed such an intense amount of passion in everything he did, the one who knew the real me and never pushed me away. He was the Edward who encouraged me in my art, who listened to my constant ramblings, who loved me tenderly and with so much warmth, he constantly took my breath away.

Only with him had I ever truly been Bella. The nudity in the painting represented the true Bella that only he had known. Every day, I dressed up to represent a different Bella. I sometimes felt like a cut-out Barbie paper doll. I remember going to the store with my mom when I was a kid and we'd pass by the section where all of the coloring books were displayed. My eyes landed on the cut-out Barbie book, and it included different outfits you could pull off the page and use to dress Barbie however you wanted by just folding the white tabs over her shoulders and legs. She could be anything. She could be Stewardess Barbie or Hawaiian Barbie, always with a smile on her face, never moving, always just...there.

Nowadays, it seemed that I had taken on that role, and I dressed up to be someone else's version of Bella every day. Only through my art and through _his _memories was I the real Bella. -or her Anthony, I suppose.

I didn't know what to make of his angry expression as he stood in front of my self-portrait that night. Why was he so angry? The only reason I could come up with was that I had used his composition without his permission. Knowing Edward, he would definitely do something about it, and it would more than likely happen very soon. The question was: Was I ready for whatever he might throw my way?

"Okay, breathe," I said, trying to be comforting. Whether it was meant for Carmen or me, I didn't know.

After a short pause in which we both stared out of the window to see the busy streets of Downtown Seattle crawling with yellow cabs, Carmen giggled lowly as I raised one expectant eyebrow at her.

"But you can't blame her, though," Carmen said as she pushed her coffee cup to the side. "I would want him to fuck me up against the wall in the middle of your exhibit, too."

I froze, not quite believing that those exact same words came out of her. Not because she wouldn't normally say such a thing. When it came to men, Carmen had no shame about making it known just what she wanted. It was the fact that they were about Edward and, even though I should feel like a hypocrite for getting angry with her for her comment, all I wanted to do was cut her tongue out with a spoon to stop her from saying such things. My anger surprised me a bit, which helped me calm the murderous rage that had quickly built within me. This was my best friend we were talking about, and I knew more than anything that she was just speaking hypothetically.

"Those lips looked good enough to suck on, and did you see what he was wearing?"

"Carmen, he's married." I sighed exasperatedly.

_Hypocrite! You should be telling yourself that. Bella, he's married!_

_I know that!_

_Then, stop touching yourself to thoughts of him!_

"I know that, _Isabella_," Carmen whispered harshly, sliding in her Spanish accent when she pronounced my name. "And you know me. You know that I would never disrespect someone like that."

I sighed, this time in regret for my anger towards her. Yes, I knew her and the past relationship she had with Lorenzo. Knowing how horribly disrespected she was by him, she wouldn't turn around and do that to someone else.

"I'm just sayin' that he looked good," Carmen continued. "My eyes can't deny that his jeans fit him snug in all the right places. Don't tell me you didn't notice his nice ass and the big package that...uh, the package that arrived last week to the museum was sent to the wrong address and so, that's why we're having this big problem with the idiots at the Post Office. Isn't that crazy?"

"Huh?" I asked, my head tilted to the side in confusion as to why she said that. Quickly, she widened her eyes as if she were warning me and nonchalantly turned her sights out the window. But, before I could ask what her problem was, I felt the right side of my body hum with warmth, and I instinctively knew who was coming. My heart was beating faster and faster the closer he got, but I worked to keep my composure as best as I could.

Would he say anything to me about the painting? Right now, in front of Carmen? Or would he wait for her to leave? I would leave with her and avoid him completely.

"Good morning, ladies," said a warm, low voice that caressed my skin like velvet. How was it that he could still affect me this way even after all this time?

I nodded my head, not trusting myself to speak, meaning to quickly look up and acknowledge him. But, the moment my eyes fell on him, I couldn't tear my eyes away. There he stood in a gray striped suit that clung to him perfectly like everything else did. But his eyes were set on Carmen.

"Well, hello there, Mr. Masen," Carmen began flirting shamelessly. Again, my anger rose, and I kicked her lightly underneath the table, hoping that she would get the hint to _watch herself_. She didn't even flinch and continued flirting. Apparently, it was okay to flirt with a married man as long as you didn't fuck him. "It's so very, very nice to see you here."

"Please, call me Edward." He flirted back.

_What the fuck?_

"Oh, no. Not Anthony?" Carmen asked.

"No, not Anthony," he said, chuckling along with her as if they were old chums. His laughter made my skin tingle, and I rubbed my thighs together to relieve the sudden flutter that reverberated my clit with every low, deep chuckle that escaped his sweet, plump lips.

_Stop it, Bella!_

"I wanted to apologize for what happened the other night when you caught Tanya and I...ah, well, you know," he said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. His eyes flickered to me and returned to her.

Does he suspect that Carmen had spilled all of the sordid details of his make-out session? I inwardly rolled my eyes.

"Hey, no problem. Just don't do it again," Carmen said jokingly.

I wasn't going to sit here like an imbecile any longer. He knew exactly what he was doing, trying to get a rise out of me, knowing that Carmen might have spilled the beans on his activities with his wife... in _my _exhibit no less. But no, he wasn't getting anything from me, and I quickly looked at my watch, realizing that I needed to get to work soon.

"I must be going," I said, interrupting their conversation as I hastily slid off the brown leather seat and hooked my book bag over my shoulder. "Carmen, I'll call you later about Thanksgiving." I turned to look at him and worked to not grit my teeth as I said, "Mr. Masen, you have yourself a nice day."

"_Ave Maria_, I didn't even notice the time. I gotta get going, too." Carmen slid off her seat and gathered her purse while Edward stood watching me. I squirmed underneath his gaze, and I quickly turned on my heels in the hopes of getting away as fast as possible.

"Actually, I was wondering if I could have a word with you, Mrs. Black," Edward called out behind us, stopping us both. We turned to look at him in surprise, and it was now his turn to shift from one foot to another, as if he were uncomfortable. "I was just wondering how you were feeling." I didn't know how to answer, so I stayed silent, waiting for him to continue. "On Friday, you left early, and you seemed to be a bit under the weather. My wife was wondering if you were better and asked me to speak with Bl- Jacob. But, now that we've run into each other, I..."

"I'm fine." I interrupted, still standing there, like an imbecile. Why would his wife want to know anything about me? Or was he lying?

To my left, Carmen whispered, "Aw, that was sweet of Trisha." Suddenly, her cell phone rang, the theme from "I Love Lucy" signaling someone from Soliloquy was calling, and she started to walk away. I felt myself panic the further away she stepped, unintentionally leaving me alone with him, but I couldn't bring myself to say a thing. "Ugh! That's my job. _Llámame más tarde__, querida_. Edward, it was nice to see you."

And just like that, she was gone. As I stood there, I felt him approach me from behind, and I closed my eyes. Here, in this very public place, he stood too close for mere strangers or even acquaintances as I felt his hot breath tickling the side of my neck, sending shivers down my spine, and I cursed my traitorous body for reacting to him so obviously.

"Bella," his voice quivered. I couldn't face him. I didn't know what to say. I hadn't prepared myself for different scenarios of what might happen should he confront me. I shook my head, opened my eyes and began to make my way out the door, quickly disposing of my latte, with him on my heels. Once outside, I walked faster, trying to remember where I had parked my car with all the flurry of emotions making my head spin.

"Bella," he called angrily to me. It didn't matter how fast I moved, he was right there behind me and followed me as soon as I found my car. "Bella, stop!"

"What?" I asked impatiently. I turned around abruptly, almost causing him to crash into me. "What do you want?"

He stopped for a second as if trying to regain his thoughts, his right hand lifted as he brushed his fingers through his hair in frustration. "What is my composition doing in your painting? Why is my lullaby there, Bella?"

I ran those same questions over and over in my mind, but they were not registering as I looked for a way to escape. I was panicking, not knowing if I wanted to tell him my reasons for that. What would he think of me?

"I don't know what you're talking about," I lied.

His intense emerald eyes moved to glare at me with incredulity. "Oh, don't me give that. That is bullshit. You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"Just leave me alone," I said. I had finally found my car and moved towards the driver's side to open the door.

Suddenly I felt a pair of hands turn me around and pin me against my car. Startled, I looked up to see his face mere inches away from mine as he hunched over me in a menacing way. It was dangerous how he stood above me, a bit frightening even, but my body was craving it in a way that it hadn't with anyone else. The strong hands that had turned me around now rested on the top of my car on either side of my head, trapping me. He avoided touching me, but it didn't matter. The warmth of his body was so close, surrounding me, that it made mine thrill with his proximity. My skin prickled with the combination of his heat and the cold air around us. I was grateful for my heavy jacket as it concealed the hardening of my sensitive nipples from his view. But my harsh breathing gave me away as I failed to control myself in front of him.

As he trapped me within the jail of his arms, our eyes locked in a heated battle, neither one of us willing, wanting to look away. His warm, minted breath hit my nostrils. I could almost taste it on my tongue and it took everything inside of me not to grab him by the jacket and pull him down towards me.

But, his next question startled me.

"How come you're always running away from me?" he asked, his voice low and trembling, sad. In that moment, I saw the Edward I knew once. I saw, once again, the look in his eyes from the last night we saw each other as I tore his heart from his chest and ripped it to shreds all those years ago. He was the seventeen year old kid who had big dreams for us, who hadn't really thought of the consequences the distance between us would bring. The vulnerability and hurt in this simple question took me aback, and I answered him before I could stop myself.

"I was scared," I whispered, not knowing if he had heard me.

"Scared?" he whispered as well, his eyebrows pulled together in genuine concern, and his eyes never moved from mine. "Scared of what?"

I couldn't answer him -I wouldn't. That was all in the past and truly, what would be accomplished if we opened up that old wound? I shook my head, pressing my lips together as if that could stop the words from flowing out of me, and I closed my eyes, hoping the intensity in his eyes could be dispelled. I felt him shift in front of me along with his demeanor. I could feel the waves of anger rolling off of him as he stood upright.

"No, Bella," he spoke, his voice turning cold and harsh, making my eyes flutter open and pay attention. "No more walking away. You're going to stand there and answer my question."

"I will do no such thing. I owe you nothing," I snapped back as I lifted my chin in defiance. I shifted my book bag a bit higher on my shoulder as it begun to slide down, and I crossed my arms, a gesture which meant that I would not budge.

"You own me ten years!" he shouted, and I flinched, the combination of how loudly he bellowed and what he said, causing me to stand still. He noticed my reaction and relaxed a bit, but his body was still tense, and I thought I heard him mumble, "And I owe my wife more than I've ever given her."

"What?"

"Answer my question."

"What does it matter?" I asked, exasperatedly."A lot of people don't take any of it seriously."

"Bella..." he waited.

"Before I answer your question, what do you think it means?" I knew it was unfair and selfish of me to ask him that since he was the one who sought me out, but I just had to know. My heart was begging for me to ask him, and so was the rest of me. If he could give me this one thing...

"No," Edward answered, his response sounded final.

"No?" I asked, and he shook his head as confirmation. "You say you owe this to your wife?" I continued questioning him as he just stood there, rigid in his stance with a look of restrained anger, as if he were trying not to lash out at me again. "What is it that you owe your wife?"

"I don't have to answer that," he said. "That is _my _composition. I never gave you any rights to paint that in your work, and after all of these years without hearing a fucking word from you, all of a sudden I see the lullaby in your piece with an extraordinary self-portrait of you, like it somehow meant anything to you. When I know damn well that none of it ever did -_I_ meant nothing to you." I gasped, not knowing how he could be so blind and hurtful. He thought he meant nothing to me? My eyes began to haze over with the tears that threatened to spill over at his accusation, and I wished more than anything that the ground could open up and swallow me whole. "So, I want to know why you did it. Was that some kind of fucking joke, Bella? Were you somehow trying to mock me?"

"How can you stand there and say that, you asshole?" I shouted. From the corner of my eye, I noticed a small group of elderly women stop at my outburst. Reality hit me in that moment, realizing that we were standing in the middle of a packed parking lot in broad daylight, screaming at each other as if we were... something more. I looked at him, pulling his hair in frustration, trying to compose himself, clearly having realized that we were drawing an audience. I looked back at the old ladies, staring at us as if we were putting on a show for them when I politely smiled at them, shaking my head as if to say that I was okay. I hoped that it would kill their curiosity and, after a long pause, it worked, and they walked away, a couple of them still looking back for reassurance.

I sighed heavily, moved to open the door to my car after unlocking it and threw my book bag on the passenger side seat. I stopped for a second, my mind still going a million miles a minute and not knowing where to begin. All I knew was that I had to get to work. I wasn't running late, but there truly was no point in continuing this conversation. If he was having marital problems and was trying to blame it on me, he needed couple's therapy, not for me to entertain him by answering stupid questions I had no desire to respond to.

"Again, I owe you nothing," I said. My back was still to him, not wanting to face him, and I knew by the hum that caressed my skin that he was still standing there. "I made certain of that ten years ago. I made sure that you would never have to look back on your life and regret anything."

"Well, you know what? You failed," Edward said, his voice accusing but sad.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.

"There's not a day that goes by that I don't regret who I am, what I've become," he whispered.

I heard the sadness and sincerity that lingered in those words, but it infuriated me. What in the hell was he talking about? He was not supposed to regret anything right now. Ever since he came back from Chicago, he's seemed more than happy with where his life had taken him. If anything, he should be thanking me. But he's regretful? I finally turned to face him as my eyes widened with incredulity.

"What is it that you regret, Mr. Big Hot Shot?" I began to shout once again, not caring if anyone heard me. "You walk around here as if you own the world. You're competing for partnership at the biggest law firm in Seattle, and you're not even thirty yet." The more I said and louder I spoke, the closer I stepped to him, unintentionally leaving my car door open, my arms flailing around uncontrollably. I was losing my cool, but he had been my pushing my buttons this entire time, and now he was going to stand there and hear me out whether he wanted to or not. "I saw that pretty little sports car you drive. What did that cost you? Like a hundred thousand dollars? Zero to sixty in 2.5 seconds? And don't even get me started on the perfect wife who looks like a Victoria's Secret model and hangs on to your arm like a fucking Christmas ornament? And you're regretful? No, you want to know what you are? You're ungrateful. You practically have it all, and you still have the nerve to complain!"

"And what about you?" he yelled back, and that shocked the hell out of me. I forgot how loud he could be. "You are a coward, Bella. You're always running away. I used to think, 'gee, she's just being shy' or 'she just needs to have some more time.' But no, you run away from everything like the chicken shit that you are, and to me that makes you a selfish person. Because you thought of yourself first while I was ready and more than willing to spend the rest of my life with you."

"You were seventeen, Edward. How could you possibly know what you would want at that age? You call me selfish, but your head had always been so far up your own ass, you failed to see the bigger picture here."

"And what is that?"

I sighed harshly, not knowing if this conversation would ever end. I needed to get to school as soon as possible. I needed to get my act together, take a breather and release all of these conflicting emotions before I started teaching my class because I didn't want to take it out on my kids.

Maybe he was right. Maybe I was a coward because, in all reality, I didn't want to face him anymore. I didn't want to cry. I didn't want to open up myself for more pain. I needed to walk away right now before I broke down in front of him and showed him how weak I had become because of him.

"There's no point to that now," I said as calmly as I could. I turned, walking back towards my car, inwardly berating myself for leaving the driver's side door open and letting it get so cold inside. I placed my right leg inside the car, preparing to sit down and stood there. "I'm running late for work. You might still want to argue about it, but I honestly don't have the time, Edward. Not that it matters because there's nothing between us anymore. If you need help in your marriage, I'm sure as hell not the answer. Go talk it over with Tanya. Get some counseling; I don't know. I'm done. Good bye."

From the corner of my eye, I saw him rush towards me, and he stood on the other side of the door I held onto. Again, he hovered over me and glared at me with disdain. "Coward," he said, his voice low and menacing. "Why am I not surprised that you're walking away again?" I rolled my eyes at him as I made to sit down, but his next words caused me to stop and stare at him in shock.

"Just like your mother."

I couldn't move or say anything. I couldn't believe he'd just said that.

"Oh, did I hit a nerve there? You used to say how the reason your mother walked away from your dad never made sense to you. If you love someone, you stick it out, no matter what. But that's exactly what you did, you hypocrite! I'll bet your mom got a real kick out of that one when you arrived in Florida the very next day after you fucked me over. Like mother, like daughter."

He straightened up and began to walk away from me as I stood there with my mouth hanging open. Was I just like her? It was definitely something that I had to put away for now and think of later but for now, I saw him moving away from me with the cockiest swagger, and I could do nothing but stare.

"Oh, and by the way," he said loudly, as he turned to smile at me. But this smile was mean, like the villain in the movie, almost hungry with revenge, and I shivered at the coldness of it. "I own the rights to the composition you so liberally took upon yourself to smear on your painting. Unless you're asking for a lawsuit and don't mind people knowing who the real Maribel Antonio is, remove it immediately. And trust me, Mrs. Black, I would know if it has been done or not. Have a great day!"

He turned and walked away victoriously. My body shook uncontrollably, and I was thankful for the driver's seat as my wobbly legs couldn't hold me up any longer and I fell in my seat. Not having the strength to hold it in any more, I shut the door and sobbed great big sobs as everything finally took its toll. Edward had once more left me with nothing, and I feared that I was starting to hate him.

* * *

___**All right...I'm dying to know what you guys think of the chapter... of Edward ...of Tanya... of Bella and of Carmen? And E&B's argument? **_

**_Do you think that Bella should remove the painting or should she keep it there?_**

___**I know some of you are dying for some nookie between our main characters but you need to realize that they both hold ten years worth of junk in their hearts and they need to get that out of the way first. They can't just up and start knocking boots out of the no where. But I thank you for your patience and I hope you're enjoying it a lot.**_

* * *

_**All right. Spanish lesson for this chapter:**_

_¿Qué se creen ellos? ¿Qué eso era un hotel? Descarados - What were they thinking? That that (the museum) was a hotel? Shameless._

_Llámame más tarde, querida -__ Call me later, beloved._


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